Sunday Morning Call

What I find so crazy is the quickness of change. What I find so crazy is I can feel the heartache and pain they are going through. What I find so crazy is how fast someone's life can be taken away.

Just received my second call of my career informing me of death. An indirect death that no doubt has had a direct effect on their lives, hearts, thoughts, and memories. Last week he was merely in the hospital, a victim of the prevalent H1N1 flu and now lifeless, beaten and defeated by the illness that has taken over our country.

I am in disbelief at the speed something can take over our immune systems, our one and only force keeping us alive. It's unthinkable that there are more powerful things out there to tear down and break down our bodies. Think about it, what we have is our skin, our blood, our heart, our organs, these things were built to keep us alive, these things were produced to carry us through time, to think of some illness destroying that creation is crazy. To think that there is something so much more powerful out there to take out life, is scary.

Feeling bad for these people and wishing in some way I could do something to shed some pain.

Be thankful for the people in your life and try not to take them for granted.

Happy Thanksgiving.

God Bless.

"Who You Gonna Call"

At Muddy's enjoying the Saturday afternoon with Michael Buble and his new album "Crazy Love."

So I went out last night with a few girlfriends, the night consisted of free shots, continuous groping by strangers, loosing and then finding my friends, laughing at the one that was the most drunk and then walking back alone at 2 in the morning, unsafe in and of itself.

Maybe it is the bar we chose to go to, or maybe it is the majority of people that occupy Vermont, but why do guys deem it "okay" to rub a girls back, butt, arm, squeeze her side or tap her shoulder as she is walking by and then proceed to wink at her, why do they deem it "okay" to do these things to a complete stranger? I find it comical now, but was absolutely annoyed last night. Single or in a relationship, are these the type of guys that girls are really looking for? Are they the type of guys they are really attracted to?

I sit here trying to grasp some sort of perspective, how did I get to this point? It is a contradicting question with many answers, many angles and a lot of depth. Here's my attempt:

Well I moved here last summer to be with him. To start a life with him where we could physically be together. That all came crashing down one week before I moved back and he shattered my world and took my heart tumbling down with it. I picked up the pieces, moved back home like planned and built a new structure for myself to stand on. It was called willpower, it was called determination, it was called strength. So I built it, I helped it grow, I formed a life with new friends, new goals, new perspective and no turning back. I think what I loved most about that time was that I was one my own, the newness was exciting, riveting, and fun. I did not depend or rely on anyone but myself. I relied on myself to make new friends, to build a great enough friendship with these people to go out with and have fun with. It was hard, but I would do it all over again if I had to. Summer turned to Fall and I somehow found myself in love. It took me by surprise when I literally almost blurted out the words 'I love you' before going to quit a job. I kept my original goal of staying home to save money for my trip to Europe in the Spring, I had the opportunity of being with my grandma everyday as she passed away. These first 6 months back home were crucial. So I saved that money and I went over to Europe for a month. Exploration was our only goal. It's hard to believe that that trip was merely 9 months ago...We returned.. I went back home with new goals and new wants, the months have passed by, goals have been met and things have been pushed to future dates. But that doesn't answer my question.

How did I get to a point where I hardly go out with my girlfriends? Is it because most of them don't live here anymore? Maddie, has come and gone back to Seattle... Erika now lives in Cali, Angela still lives in Boston...Margo has moved on to Norway.. Girlfriend is STILL in Minnesota...It's crazy to have a huge group of girlfriends and all this great support constantly surrounding me and then have more than half of them move away. Great for them, I am truly happy that they have all moved on but I miss them. I miss this support surrounding me. I guess what it comes down to is that I am upset with the fact that I don't have many girlfriends to call up anymore.

So what am I going to do about it? Make more friends. It's such a childish thing, but I feel if you're not in school or working, it is hard to make friends, and I think this same concept applies to meeting a potential partner. Maybe I just need more time to myself. Maybe I need to go back to standing on that structure. Either way this feels good, sitting here, alone, (well with Michael) and attempting to lay it out.

There are many ways in which I could embrace this and I guess the best way would be positively. Set goals, get things done, keep on keeping on.

Disappearing Personality?

Trying to find my path in life... is it online..? is it in a newspaper? Has it already passed me by? When I say path do I merely mean job? Sad... but as insignificant as it may be in the end, it is all that is guiding me right now.

Trying to move out and see more of another city, but trying to be financially secure before I take a leap into another adventure. Yes, I would love for that perfect job to fall into my lap and for me to say bon voyage to waitressing forever... I mean that is my ultimate goal.

I could always transfer with the VNA and then take the LNA course that they offer to see if I could really do the nursing thing.... could I? I don't know, it seems like it would be the logical thing to do right now, especially with the economy continuously plummeting and succeeding, how can anyone depend on a constant, steady income with the market making us nausea?

Well, applied for two other journalism jobs, one in California and one in Massachusetts, at this point all I am looking for is an interview. Wrote another email to my contact in London and now attempting at some research for my internship with the Literary Traveler. It's crazy how accomplishing these things can drastically change my mood and sense of confidence. But the fact of the matter is, I am in the same spot I was when I was complaining to my mom. I still do not have a concrete journalism job, I still have yet to figure out where I am moving and still have not landed an interview. Technicalities, can't let those kinda things get me down.

Shaking my head at the thought of it. Should I be as blunt to say that I think it is absolutely ridiculous to be buying a house with another man only 6 months after finalizing a divorce. Where is the logic? Where is the intelligence that I constantly see? Maybe it's just me, maybe I am being protective, maybe I am be cynical, I just feel that it is absurd. When I heard about this for the first time my mind instantly went to the what ifs.... What if they break up? What if she has to go through all the legal shit again? What if she can't afford this place without him?

From what I have heard, she could not afford this place on her own, without him. So why would she even consider it? I think it is crazy that at how quickly people/things can change.

This time last year was much different and I really liked it, it is as simple as that. I for once in my life had a sister. I had a sister that I could call a really great friend. I had a sister that I would go to and vent to, not just about the family but about things in my life. I had a sister that I would go to and talk with. Where has she gone? Where has the relationship dissipated to?

I know I can not lay all the blame on her, but when she was single and when she was free of any inhibition, she was fun. She stopped judging me for going out and stopped judging me for the clothes I wear and realized that she wanted to do and wear similar things. Now, I'm not leading you in a direction to think I dress badly or provocatively, not at all, but from as far as I can remember she has put me down, judged me and demanded things of me. She has somehow learned to take over the motherly role when my mom is absent and to her, this means telling me what to do and then yelling at me and calling me names when I refuse to it.

Am I really being lazy? Or am I defending myself?

She is a person that is determined and once she sets her mind to do something, she will do it. Good for her. I hope it works out. But I also hope and wish that the sister I know she can be wouldn't always disappear when a man walked into her life.

Still looking down the tunnel and trying to find my path... I go back to researching...

Heartache vs. Unchosen Abandonment

So here I sit.. at my parents house, catsitting, no one here but Bernard, Ace and I. I sit here, watching probably the saddest movie on TV and I choose to sit here and cry. "P.S. I love you." I don't even know what to say about it.

As I sat and watched, sat and cried, and still continue to watch my heart aches for her. I can not fathom it, I can not fathom the possibility of being so inlove, so intertwined, and so connected with someone that it feels as if your two heart beats are in constant symmetrical rhythm with each other and then instantly poof, gone, taken away like the past second by a brain tumor.

It is heartbreaking to have your heartbroken by a man: a father, a lover, a significant figure, but it is undenibly torturous, deafening, and hurling to have your man taken, to be abandoned not by choice. I do not know this from experience, this torturous, deafening, hurling feeling and I hope to never feel it. But in my own naiveness, is there a line? Is there a difference between the heartbreak and the unchosen abandonment?

Do I even want to know?

To be inlove: To embrace his chest against your back as the warmth of your bodies envelop the comforter. To roll over and kiss his puffy lips from a good nights rest. To jump into his arms. To fight. To make up. To make love. To get lost in his stories in a loud restaurant. To see the world together. To hold hands in an uncomfortable situation. To hold hands. To laugh. To joke. To cry. To sneak unexpected, unallowed glances his way. To whisper into each others ears in the empty house. To believe in each other. To encourage and support each other. To smile. To share. To help. To dance in an empty room, on an empty floor.

This is what I know and this is what I feel. I have had my heartbroken, I have felt suffocated and I have felt abandoned, but without those feelings I could not have felt these. So does it really matter if there is a difference between heartbreak and unchosen abandonment? Is there a difference when love becomes so overpowering, so consuming and so beautiful? Does not lose blend together and blur into the same line?

Approaching Fall

Sitting in the kitchen at the kitchen table, a loaf of zucchini bread to my left, orange juice to the top of the screen and the window blowing cool Fall air upon my face. I walked outside yesterday to run some errands with a client and I could feel Fall. I could feel the holidays (although still far away) approaching, I could feel the warmth of just the thought of them envelop my heart.

Yesterday was a long, but fine day. I worked at the Ice House in the evening and was happy to be a part of a party of 18. I was happy about this before they walked down the stairs and told us that they would need to split the bill 18 ways.... c'mon people... really? Okay okay, it wasn't awful, but 18 different American Express cards is a bit redundant, to say the least.

The two insurance men boldly sitting next to this party of 18, took it upon themselves to pull me aside, throw some witty banter my way and chat it up. Maybe they chose me because I was the only girl working that night... or maybe not, who knows. One was the creator/owner of McAuley, Woods and Associates. They were trying to convince me to become an insurance agent and were discreetly bashing my choice of journalism. Well, it is what it is. I guess I would never be one to understand why people feel they have the right to pass judgment on some one else's life choice, I guess these men disregard this notion or are completely oblivious. Either way, they gave me their cards, tried to figure out if they knew of anyone in journalism in Chicago or London. Nothing came to the surface and honestly nothing probably will. I just found it comical.

And the search for the Passport begins....

Introducing Wise Accomplice and Bashful Burlington Boy

I saw Gregory Douglass today walking up Church Street, my heart fluttered, I silently called out to him as he walked by oblivious. A secret love, a secret devotion, I sit here in Uncommon Grounds happy with my successful day listening to "Ordinary Man."

I had a meeting today with my Wise Accomplice and swam between not having anything to speak of to not knowing how to explain my feelings. I had plenty to speak of, my recent epiphany, my anxious feelings about this move, the dreaded talk, my dreams and my recent accomplishes, but sometimes when I go and sit down I feel resolved, happy to be where I am. I take this time with my Accomplice to realize how great I have been doing. It is often much easier when she points out where I use to be and I realize where I am now and how far I have come. There are always things to work on, with myself, with relationships, with work, with life, but it is often a more positive experience when I can target things on my own and zero in on the reality of them.

I spoke to my Accomplice today about meltdowns... lets face it people, we all have them. I told her that some days it is so easy to just realize and see a situation in it's entirety, but then other days I am blurred by this lens of abandonment, jealousy, sadness or anxiety that I can't see the situation in it's actuality. She then proceeded to ask me if I had ever heard of Wise Mind, the blending of your emotions and reasonability. It's brilliant.

Often we allow our emotions to take over a situation. We take these feelings, such as abandonment, that are created from a small occurrence and allow it to fester, grow and expand, this is the emotional side of our brain taking over. Other days we have the ability to see a situation as it truly is and step away from it with reasonability. The wise mind is blending both of these together, realizing that we may be upset about something but continue to use reasonable consciousness to resolve, grow and move on from it.

It's brilliant and I can totally relate.

So yesterday, according to Hal Higdon, I was scheduled to do my 7 mile run for my training. I ran 7.1 miles last night with Bashful Burlington Boy in 59 minutes and 57 seconds. He told me that I had 20 seconds to make it to the end without going over an hour, so I took my reserved energy and ran full speed. I could feel my whole abdomen in action and my legs were just following behind, I feel extremely proud of myself.

As I am in my 7th week of training, I have continued to learn methods that have really helped me. The first lesson or step was to get new sneakers, an amazing change in my motivation and overall running experience. The second lesson was to shut the little person up that exists in my head. The one that whines when it hurt and moans at the beginning. I have learned to tune her out and focus on the falling of my feet upon the pavement. The third lesson I taught myself: when I am at the bottom of a hill, I recognize that I need to get to the top and will not stop, so I have taught myself to merely but my head down and just go. I have learned to put my arms as straight as possible where they are still supportive to my stride. I have taught myself not to look up unless I can handle what still stands in front of me. It has been tremendously helpful. The fourth lesson I have learned was to run with my hips on flats, it has been aiding in my conservation of energy and tightening my buns. Excellent! The fifth lesson I have learned was to not look at the run as a whole, but to take it section by section, hill by hill and turn by turn. I anticipate certain hills and I forget about the finish line because I know what is going to challenge me and what needs my attention.

So I mentioned my accomplishing day towards the top, I sent out over 7 emails to local newspapers around town. I am determined to get back into my freelance writing. I have heard back from 4, 2 of which asked for writing samples and 2 of which reported that they have nothing currently available. 2 for 2 isn't bad. I feel good about taking the time to send out my resume and cover letter and trying. It's all I can do right now is try.

Bashful Burlington Boy and I went and saw 'Julie and Julia' last night. I loved it, my type of movie, food, journalism, women power AND it was funny. Sometimes I think, 'damn, why couldn't I have thought to do that, what a GREAT idea and look at all the publicity it got and how quickly it jump-started her journalism career,' but I guess we all have our own routes to getting to where we want to be. Bashful boy mentioned blogging about my training, I could start now and I probably will, but when I run the whole marathon I will definitely blog about it. The thing with that is, people do that all the time, I would like it to be original like this movie, completely original, but I often feel like it's difficult to think of things that have not already been thought up. I guess I just need to zero in on my creative side....

MAYBE I'll focus on my quilt making... or maybe I'll keep writing like this.... any suggestions...? Anyone...?

The Perks to Waiting...

So I am a waitress.... this is my income. Why do people come in, spend 99 dollars and walk out the door with only leaving a 100 dollar bill in the book.

I knew it from the moment they walked in and sat in my section. It is a bit sad how jaded and often judgmental I have become, but in the end you can see them coming from a mile away. The 'them' I am referring to is the overly gracious, overly polite, overly happy people that leave you with 100 dollars on a 99 dollar tab. Yes folks, that is right, leaving me with a whopping dollar tip to pay my bills.

Now don't get me wrong, it is not every overly gracious, polite and happy persons that tip badly, that would be generalizing, but they tend to be very obvious to the experienced server.

She called him "papa," they were an extremely young couple, from the looks of it they looked as if they were married just after they graduated high school, I am assuming they have two or three kids at home and were splurging for an anniversary. Whatever it was, they were not splurging in the tipping department.

I have heard several people in my lifetime say that they believe every person should wait tables at some point in their lifetime, it is not an easy job, it is not always fun and in the end every bill you put in that booklet to tip is our soul income. Face it people, minimum wage for a server is less than 4 dollars and 75% of the time our paychecks are void.

So the moral of the story is: Tip your servers 18-20% because it is our income, our money to pay our bills and make it through this challenging, demanding economy.

Thank you.

September 11th 2009

I woke up this morning to the darkness outside the window and to the music coming from the alarm clock. I rolled over wanting to postpone the work day and feel the warmth of his skin a few hours longer, I embraced him as my eyes slowly opened and I felt a sense of gratitude to have him in my life. I got up, put my clothes on and started the pot of coffee.

It's hard to believe that it was 8 years ago. It's hard to believe that 8 years ago my grandma and grandpa were still present in my everyday life. It's crazy how fast time goes by. I feel that I loose a great deal of perspective of time. When I was a kid time stood in my way, all I wanted was Christmas to come faster or vacation to be just one day longer, but now I just can't seem to hold on to an hour. Where does it go?

I'm currently in a coffee shop, I had many ideas and plans for today: to journal, to blog, to go to City Hall, to read, to have a meeting, and here I am blogging, yes, but there just isn't enough time.

I feel stuck right now. I'm trying to plan my next move and am emotionally struggling. Yes, I want to leave here, I want to move on to bigger and better things, but my drive to apply for a job, find another apartment, take the TEFL course and move across the ocean seems so draining. Do I have the time to do it all? Where do I even begin? Do I even want to be teaching English? Is it for me? Should I follow my dream of being a journalist even if nothing is evidently available?

I feel very alone in this process although we are planning to go together. Is this what I really want? Here it is, my doubt, my insecurities point blank on the page in front of me. Is this what I want? Is it as big as I want to go or do I just want to run free with nothing drafting me.... ? Somedays it seems so clear, and other days I am left with so many questions.

Where do I go from here?

Life has changed drastically for everyone over these 8 years since such a significant event took place. Today, September 11th of each year, everyone is a 'New Yorker.'

Remember the fallen and remember the ones that defend our freedom. Remember the ones that had no other choice but to fly, remember the brave souls that took over that one plane and defended themselves, remember everyone that lost someone on that very significant day. It is a part of our history now, it is a part of our vision and it will forever be a part of our memory.

Steps to Justice

Feeling the strain on my inner right foot from my recent training, feeling my body relax deeper into my couch, feeling the earlier hype settle into just another beat.

I had an epiphany today as I stood in her kitchen composing a white cream sauce. This is not what I love, I thought. It is something I do to pay the pills, to acquire money in my bank account and to somehow step a bit closer to my want of helping people. I love working for the people that I do, but in the end I want to be a writer. I want to pay my way through life with my writings. I stood there in front of the stove with this newfound revelation, where I work right now is not where I want to be in 2 years. I want to use these jobs to help pay for my lifestyle and use my free time to dive into my dream of becoming a journalist and somehow helping people.

I still have not quite figured out how to connect the two in a logical manner where I can independently support myself, but I feel at some point in time it will just be there, in front of me waiting for me to grab hold of it.

I've recently been frustrated with my lack of writing and have finally begun to do something about it. I have put together a letter to the Mayor pertaining to my recent and continuing relationship with the Burlington Police:

Hello. My name is Ashley Boyd and I am 23-years-old. I am a resident of Burlington and have been recently faced with many occurrences where I have been left questioning, where is the justice?

In the past 5 months I have had over 3 experiences with the Burlington Police, 2 of which I was a victim of a robbery and 1 of which I was a witness of a car collision. After almost 7 years of no contact with any police in Burlington or any surrounding town, my vision and overall outlook on the police force has been completely changed.

In these past 5 months I have filed an automobile robbery in which I spoke to an officer of the Burlington Police Department, after receiving a suspicious call from a man that left me unsettled and uncomfortable to walk around the block I called back the officer but never heard from him again.

I was then a victim of another robbery, this one occurring in my boyfriends home. From the downstairs apartment laptops, ipods, cameras and money were stolen. They thieves walked through our entryway and out our front door. The Burlington Police took the air conditioner to find fingerprints, nothing has happened or been replaced, to my knowledge this has been considered just another robbery and has been filed.

On Labor Day my 4 friends were victims of a T-bone car collision. It took the Burlington Police over 30 minutes to come to the scene of the collision and as they approached they did not have their sirens or lights on.

These instances leave me wondering where are the priorities of the Burlington Police Department?

They patrol a city with almost 40,000 citizens but do they have enough officers to help maintain the safety of the citizens and find the criminals leaving the citizens unsettled? How do they maintain justice if they continue to merely file these robberies and not chase after the people with the lute of the victim? How do they maintain justice and safety when they arrive at a car collision with no alarms or sirens to show urgency? Was this T-bone car collision consisting of 4 adults and 1 child not an emergency that called for urgency?

I am writing to you in hopes to find some direction in where to take these issues. How can I make a change? How can I not feel pushed aside for the “bigger issues?”

I am asking as a citizen of Burlington for help from you, a person just like me wanting to make a difference.

Thank you for your time

I'm not sure what will happen with this or if I will even receive a response. I do know that this is a start.

It's time to start, or continue where I left off. I need to pick my writing back up, blow off the dust and keep it up. It's the only thing I can still really see myself doing. Sometimes I find myself listening to all of these people tell me about their success and I just think, 'wow, how motivated they are.' I am motivated but sometimes I am overwhelmed with this great feeling of indifference. I do not want to feel that way. I do not want to be a person that just walks through life settling with whatever job they may have that can pay the bills. Yes, it is great to have stepping stones and something to always fall back upon, because lets face it, it is not easy to find a job right now, but sometimes I wonder if I did not work both of these jobs would I be more determined to focus on my writing? Yes. So then why don't I take some time off, I silently ask myself, well because it comes down to money.

I like my lifestyle, I like my luxuries and in the roots of my soul I feel like I could do it all. Baby steps... baby steps into a professional journalism job...

Life is going well. I will be going to a Kings of Leon concert next week and taking a little vacation with Barton, which I am psyched about. Training is getting a bit grueling but nothing that I want to stop. I was sick last week and couldn't run for 3 days, I felt awful about it. Barton's dad once told me that he was addicted to running... I fear that I have acquired this same obsession. (Hey it could be worse.) I've been following Hal Higdon's guide for training and am feeling pretty great about it.

I feel that running a marathon is not such a farfetched goal anymore, at one point I thought it was absolutely ludicrous. It is rewarding to set goals and watch yourself get closer and closer to accomplishing them. Although I went to college and graduated with a degree and although I have accomplished things in my life, it was not until after I graduated that I really started recognizing goals that I wanted to accomplish and actually started watching myself struggle and succeed through them.

I still have yet to figure out what made me so oblivious to my own accomplishments throughout the years, but seize the moment, what better time than now?

So as I lay here in my own solitude after a long day of work, writing letters in hope to find justice, doing some cross-training, visiting with my parents, finishing yet another leisure read, I contemplate writing my own book, helping people across the world, finding justice in my own town and spending yet another night curled up next to him.

All my desires and aspirations float through my mind leaving me excited and serene.

Goodnight.

Moments of Time 2 Lifelong Memories

I was sitting at the kitchen table conversing with my client about family history and as she shared her memories from over 50 years ago and I shared mine, I wondered what makes certain moments lifelong memories or just simply the moment?

Why do we remember certain things while other moments are simply that, moments in time?

We spoke about sugaring, homemade donuts, bread pudding, sugar on snow and I pulled from my memory rolodex distinct moments of sitting at the counter at my grandma's farm house having homemade donuts and sugar on snow among my cousins. I distinctly remember passing around the boxes of Graham Crackers and Honey Combs as we all ate breakfast together. I distinctly remember the blankets on the bed in the farm house, I distinctly remember all the books that were always around. I distinctly remember the bathroom and how I found the tub unique for some reason. Why are these the things or moments that are boldly placed in my memory bank? Will they always be here or will they vanish? Is it hard to recap memories as they continue to step further away year after year?

I always use to say that I never want to be old, but as I sat at the table, I realized that I would rather struggle to recap my memories and still be able to pinpoint the feeling of happiness, than never have the time to make such special moments memories.

I watched this women use her hands to show me the location of the stove, the counter, the piano and as I watched her and looked into her eyes as she revisited a home that she once loved and spent so much time in, I saw that same look. The same look I saw upon my Grandma's face so many times when she was trying to explain to me those special moments that turned into lifelong memories. The football game, the colors of their jersey's, why do these things stick? Who ever knew that a smell and color would make such a significant impact on our always absorbing minds.

I blog and journal a lot because sometimes I feel as if I can't keep track of one day to another, but after being an avid writer, I find it interesting and motivating to see where I was 5 or 6 years ago on paper. The feelings, the thoughts, the emotions, the moments that at that time were crucial and life altering. I know once I get older that the dates or chronological order won't be as significant, but it will always be a nice thing to look back upon.

My 15 year old memories compared to her 50+ year old memories, weren't all that different; remembering the position of a certain kitchen appliance, remembering the thin material of the comforter on the top bunk, remembering my uncles collecting the snow and packing it into buckets to carry back to us, snowmobiling one random afternoon with my uncle, these little moments that for some reason become indispensable and are shared for the rest of life.

Don't try so hard to make memories, they will form on their own.

The Things We Do

Sitting outside Uncommon Ground under the hot sun watching the dark clouds loom in the distance. Barney sits on my lap and it's hard not to become distracted by the many people that walk by the table we sit at. Had a great weekend at Ausable Chasm in NY. Summer is here and my days consist of long bike rides, nights under the stars in a tent, drinking in front of the fires we make, sitting out in the sun, coffee breaks mid day, running along the waterfront, grilling with friends and days out on the boat, needless to say the summer looks promising. 

My days remaining in VT are limited and as I began to look for apartments I realized that I would like to leave within the next 6-7 months. The options are endless. I could take after a close friend, drive across the country and find a place in California, I could go back to the city or a different city, I could go find a job somewhere in Europe, I could stay here, but for some odd reason I don't think sitting here on Church Street for another year or two will be as appealing as it is now. The endless redneck, no class conversations that take place within ear distance are amusing, comical if you will. "Rumor has it Susan is going to get me beat up," "Titttiieessss" The rasp of a lifelong smokers voice. The too fat, too tight, white trash people that stand outside the downtown mall. The endless amount of drama about who started shit first. Okay, okay. Maybe I'm being judgmental... maybe a bit too harsh. But in the end, do these people even care? As I ask myself this I wonder, why should they care? Are they going against the "norm"of society? Or do they feel like this is the crowd they fit into and to become anything more, or to want anything more would be stepping out of the only crowd they have known. Is this the same idea for those who are rich? For those people who have their cocktail parties, the endless banquets, and their yachts, if they ever wanted more or less would they go against their "norm?" 

Are we so worried about our peers judging and not accepting us that we will follow the crowd that we view we fit into the most? 

Will all the kids follow the cool kid in the sandbox to not be picked on? Will all the teenagers shop at American Eagle and Abercrombie and Fitch because those are seen as the "cool clothes" around the halls of their high school? Will all the college kids purchase fake ids and take shots with fellow classmates to not seem "lame?" Do these characteristics and simplified ideas follow us throughout our lives and into our careers?

Will we wear similar clothes to fit in with our friends? Will we try to impress our boss at a job we want by laughing at his jokes or speaking to him about indifferent matters?

When do we stop trying to fit into a certain crowd and stop searching for acceptance and just be? When do we stop waking up in the morning and putting safety pins through our eyebrows, short skirts around our waist, business suits upon our bodies? Do we need to do these things to get to where we want to be? Whether that be on a street corner or president of a large company, will we ever stop trying to fit into a certain crowd? 

A secret smile. She walks by and it makes me feel great about what I'm doing. I look at him and feel Barney on my lap. The  recognition is becoming obvious, the tries and changes are evident, it's a chance to make ones self better and I'm all about it, an advocate if you will. Everyone needs a little time for themselves every now and then and what better way. 

The clouds are coming and the wind has picked up...Barney has fallen asleep and it's time for me to continue on with me day..

Honey Hive

A moment it hits, a moment it is gone. A noticeable melody, a slap in the face, a diversion of the mind. Divert the thoughts to the present. Clear the blurriness with visions of the second hand. A quick hit, and an attempt to retreat. Stuck in the sticky honey, surrounded by the hive. I'd rather be stung for a quick instant than stuck here in the depths of this honey hive.

Always want the fight, the drama, the obsession. Why are these obviously negative things deemed so attractive? When do we learn that these obsessions are merely that, obsessions that leave us addicted to an imaginary thing.

I recently consoled a friend over a break-up. Nothing drastic, a few weeks together, a few great times, but obviously nothing meant to be. How do we fall so quickly for people that are unmistakably so wrong for us? Are we blinded by the excitement of a new adventure? Are we more apt to engorge the good and lessen the bad to fool ourselves into making it seem better than it really is? Are we so afraid of being alone that we will fall for those who we wouldn't date otherwise?

It's been a while since I've blogged. Things have changed of course, as anything would over time, but absolutely no regrets. 

It's funny how in the moment of a second I wonder, 'is this...' and then I hear it and it is. Is it soothing, distracting, indifferent or something untouched? I guess a bit of all. It's hard to ignore when it is there, in my ears, surrounding my body, putting chills on my skin, but once it has ended and has been replaced, the memory, the feeling, the chills all end, my skin smoothes, my vision clears and the road in front of me extends and I continue.....

Significant Moment Forgotten...

Maybe that's the way it should be... or that is just the way it is. Over a month since she has passed, over a month since I was in Dublin, Ireland and I received the call. My family has been sorting through her house and cleaning it out and they found a piece I wrote about a significant moment in my life. It had to do with my grandfather, my grandma's husband. A time when I was asked upon to go to the doctors office with my grandma and grandpa to help walk my grandpa in because he was too weak from the cancer taking over his mouth. Although I wrote about this moment, I had forgotten about until I read the piece. My mom mentioned that she had found this piece and briefly told me what it was about and I couldn't quite find the memory stored. 

After reading it and remembering it I wonder why I had locked that memory away. Have I done this with many others? Will I do this with the remaining and most recent memories of my grandma? I guess it is better to remember my grandpa as the strong man he was rather than the frail man I had to help walk into the doctors office that one morning. I just wonder where I put it, the memories that make my eyes water and heart hurt when addressed. Am I the only one that does this?

My trip to Europe was amazing and filled with many fun and exciting moments. Again, I learned so much about myself and feel I grew more and more each day I woke. My grandma passed the day after I flew out of the states, but she passed on the same day my grandpa, her husband died 5 years ago. I wish I had been there like I was for my grandpa. I wish I was holding her hand as she took her last breath. The thing that gets me is that people complain day in and out about not wanting to be alone, but I think the thing I've realized is that we die alone, we take our last breath alone, we feel the last bit of pain alone and the thing I wanted the most was to hold her hand and stand by her side so she would not be alone when she took her last breath. I wanted that so badly, I wanted to be there for her so badly and it still pains me to know that I could not have been. It angers me but it happened the way it did for a reason, I just wish and believe I will always wish I had been there. 

My first few days back from Europe I could smell her. Maybe it was just me, but I felt like she was still there. The poster boards that were presented at the funeral still sat in our living room and I peered at them the first night back. I sat down and clenched my jaw hoping to fight back the tears, why did I have to miss it? I can keep going over this question time and time again, but it will never hold an answer that satisfies my sadness. 

I don't know what to say about it, it's still hard and it's still so here, in this moment, on my mind and in my heart. I guess I'm just not that good at letting go...

Shed the Skin

Sit sit sit, shed shed shed. As I gaze upon you and the ability to react dissipates another layer is shed. Reaching into the cupboard to grab you a sweet treat, something you never turn down, you ask, 'how will you get across.' I pause as I reach for the Oreos and respond, 'across what?' 'The field,' you say. A complete lack of reality and the present moment, I try to enter your world and respond with a witty phrase that may make you laugh or come back to me. 

In and out, in and out you shift from an exciting sentence that holds only the beginning and no intention of being finished. Frustrated you become as I continue to ask what or who. Should I not try to understand what you are saying to me? Is it only making you frustrated and angry? 

Moments that no one can understand, moments that I do not want to share with others in fear that it may put them in an awkward position. Still grateful to be here with her, by her side and still happy that in brief instances she sees me and comes back. If it's those brief instances we have left then I want them all. 

I feel as if my skin is being peeled off of me. As if I had a horrible sunburn and the dead, burnt skin is finally peeling off to be replaced by the fresh new skin. I envision this skin just shedding off of me. These moments of loss, her inability to connect with reality, her inability to comprehend a situation, her inability to be the woman I know she is, are on me as I sit with her at the table, but as I close my eyes I feel the skin peeling back, I feel the skin shedding. These moments of her last few days won't be the ones to stick, because in my heart I know that is not who she is. 

I guess the only way to be the closest to death without dying is to see someone take their last breath, I had hoped I would be here to see it like I was with my grandpa. I know it won't happen but sometimes I just wish I could change the way things were going to be. 

It's like a flash of clarity when she comes back. She looks at me, eyes glazed over from the medicine we have her on to prevent the pain of the massive tumor taking over her soul, unmindful of what she was beginning to say or what we were talking about, and then the second hand moves once more and her eyes clear, she looks at me with a smile and I hold on to her gaze as the clock ticks and my heart beat becomes steady. Stay with me, stay with me I plead silently. I feel no words can be said when she finds that clarity, afraid it may shift her back into the unconscious  state. It's too late to write what I wanted to write and read it to her, I fear that if she stays like she was last night for the remaining time, it will not register. 

A few times in the past week I've wanted to run early, to take the nothingness that I have packed and just go. Step away from the challenges that face me and into the sweet serenity of exploration. Soon enough, but not before I take these challenges head on as to not worry, question or contemplate decisions made when I leave. 

The only way to conquer the demons are to face them without fear.

Shed the Skin 

Intimate Nod

Sitting at my desk filling out checks for parking tickets, applications to apply for health insurance, emails to inform people I will not be at the meeting and searching the web for some spark of memory of the museum I am writing about. Contemplating going to the gym, but unsure whether or not I can muster up the energy at 10 pm. 

The night has been interesting, mostly spent in the kitchen trying to piece together a puzzle and visit with my grandma. It's uplifting to know that we can all still make her laugh and laugh together. It's encouraging. 

Caught this afternoon with an abrupt realization that sometimes what people say does not always live up to what they tend to do. A glimpse of the past hit me as I grabbed the stew out of the microwave and remembered all those things I mentally noted that I did not want. I did not know that it would occur to me that quickly, that all the things I learned would instantly pop to the front line of my train of thoughts and mentally remind me, that hey, this is something you do not want or do not like. An intimate nod of appreciation between myself and I that those moments did teach me something and this moment was something I could go without. 

It was a contradicting feeling. Shocked at the words that not too long were pronounced and then denied after the statement, yet satisfied with my quickness of my own comprehension. Why say something or promise something if you are unsure that you can live up to those promises or words? A questions that always has baffled me. A simple request of not to promise anything you know you can not fulfill, promises evoke hope and if this promise is not fulfilled or broken it results in disappointment. Why encourage these contradicting feelings when they can be easily avoided? Make a promise if you know you can fulfill it, and if not then hold that hope to yourself and smile when you do secretly fulfill it.  

Another weekend where the house will be filled with guest to visit my grandma. We had a scary night on Monday and I woke up Tuesday morning uncertain if she was still alive. Gladly she was and we have been blessed with her presence and smile until a higher spirit feels it is time.

God Bless.