I am friends with someone on Facebook that for the past four years has been the only person that I would ever say I disliked. If I'm being honest, there were points when I downright hated this person. I could not stand to be in the same room as them and whenever their name was brought up I would draw back as if having just been slapped in the face. Slowly I moved from hating to strongly disliking, from feeling like I'd been slapped to slapping down some nasty side comments. I felt this was progress. I was certain that the closest I was ever going to get to forgiving this person was not cursing the very air they breathed.
Now, I know what you are thinking, why in the hell did I accept this person's friend request? Well, the answer is simple, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Also, I was secretly hoping that I would be able to witness this person's demise via an electronic medium.
No such luck.
However, what I have been able to do is move from blind hatred to apathetic disliking to simple apathy and today the train finally stopped at forgiveness. This person had made a status update that I had considered commenting on but was in a rush to get out for a run and didn't. I did however think about this update as I was walking home from the gym and for the first time I found myself thinking positively about this person. Not just in a way that I wish peace to all mankind, but in a way that I specifically wanted good things for this specific person. My pace suddenly slowed and I realized that forgiveness is not something you give someone else, but rather something you give yourself. I suddenly felt lighter, as if a tremendous weight had lifted from within my heart.
As my pace quickened I smiled and for the first time released the grudge I had been holding tightly for so many years. And in its place I let in light and love.
Every time I listen to this song I cry (or at the very least get undeniably teary eyed). Without fail. Every mother loving time. As much as I like to pretend that Elton's "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters" is my life theme song, I'm pretty sure this is actually it. Well, maybe if the two songs were combined to make one mega song like "Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding". Oh wait, I digress...
The bottom line is that I am so incredibly thankful for...
four spectacularly wonderful parents, including a mum who still kisses and hugs me like she did when I was 5, a dad who I admire more and more every day, and two step-parents who have patiently put up with all my shenanigans over the past 10+ years.
having perhaps the most fabulous big brother ever given to a little sister. Mostly I say this because he is funny as hell and I really like to laugh, but also because he is truly the only other person on the face of this planet who knows what it is exactly that I have been through.
every single day that I get to spend with my gram/every day that she is here with us.
step-siblings that I want to spend time with and get to know and "grow up" with.
being able to say I'm an auntie and watching my wonderful little nephews (and step-nephews and nieces) grow up into awesome little people.
friends! This includes, but is certainly not limited to, my Boy Bestie, my old friends, my new friends, those who have stuck with me as I have traversed this country and others, and those who have forgiven me probably more times than I deserve.
my family that are not bound to me by blood.
knowing that no matter where in the world I am I have friends and family who will always have my back.
the world's funniest, snuggliest, cutest, scrunchiest, most loveablest dog who is lying next to me snoring as I type.
being able to take time to pursue my dream...as practical as it may be.
my two strong, runner's legs.
my body agreeing to go along with all of the ridiculousness I put it through.
Lucy socks, Nike headbands and gloves, my iPod Shuffle and Body Glide.
yoga.
coffee, yellow highlighters, and Dragonfly Cafe.
discovering I love peanut butter.
having a job and an internship and going to school and trying to maintain a social life and training for a marathon and keeping up on weekly calls to my parents and taking time for myself and walking the dog and...
all the experiences I have had (good and bad) that have ultimately made me who I am today; someone I truly love and feel deserves to be loved.
checking the weather of the city your loved one lives in, every day.
Every time I talk to my dad on the phone we discuss weather and every time he mentions how he saw in the newspaper/on The Weather Channel that the weather here in Portland was x, y or z. Every time, without fail.
It had never occurred to me until I was out running the other day that this means my dad is thinking about me. Every day. It is an incredibly small gesture, but it shows an even more incredible amount of love.
Then it dawned on me, all I'm really looking for in life is someone that doesn't have to ask, "what's the weather like?" because they already know.
As I begin to mentally prepare to physically prepare for my next marathon (Oakland, March 27) I have recently changed my desktop wallpaper and Facebook profile picture to an amazing photo of Kathrine Switzer. She's the first (numbered) woman to run Boston. She's a ballsy lady and she worked hard to pave the way for female marathoners. Before Paula Radcliffe and Kara Groucher were gracing the covers of sports magazines in their sports bras she was rocking sweats while nonchalantly running away from race officials. The lady is a true hero and I will think of her next Monday as I take my first steps towards my second marathon.
I will be the first to admit that I can sometimes take teasing a little too far. I like to laugh, I like to make jokes and since I don't mind laughing at myself I too often assume that others don't mind either. I know this is only an excuse, but it's hereditary; my whole family (especially the original four - my mum, dad, brother and me) enjoy a good tease. I have spoken to both of my parents about this, "don't you think sometimes we tease too much?" and I am always told, "no, it's all in good fun". But it always has to be admitted that not everyone grew up in a house full of jokers.
More than a joker I am also at times painfully sarcastic making it difficult for even those who know me best to tell if I am serious or not. I cannot even begin to recall how many times I have had to say, "I know it is hard to tell, but I am being serious right now".
Perhaps more than anyone my boy bestie, Peter, gets the brunt of my teasing and sarcasm. I cannot tell you why because I absolutely adore Peter. He is truly one of the most generous and genuine friends I have ever had. I have only known him for a relatively short two years, but sometimes it feels like I've known him my whole life. We often bicker like an old married couple but there isn't a doubt in my mind that I would go to the ends of the earth for Peter and that he would do the same for me, without a second thought, without question.
One of the many reasons why I admire Peter is because of what I have proclaimed his "special zest for life". I wordsmithed this phrase while we were touring Wisconsin and I was able to see my state for the first time through someone else's eyes. Peter has such an exuberant optimism about life that I envy. At times I feel old and beaten down by life when I am with him because I cannot fathom being so utterly optimistic, so youthfully zealous.
What makes this quality even more awesome is that despite the relative subjectivity of a difficult life, Peter has not had it easy. He has faced adversities and hardships I cannot imagine handling, and to make it through with eyes that are able to see the world as his do is so uniquely outstanding. It is if as though he is only able to see the good. While I am focused on the dark clouds, Peter is able to point out the small patch of blue off in the distance. And more than that he is unabashedly unashamed to express his complete and utter joy for the thread-thin silver lining.
And while I am haranging him about being so over-the-top I am secretly wishing I could acquire just a quarter of his special zest for life.
While considering a move back the eastward way it has come to my attention that I have perhaps front loaded my life. What if I peaked in my mid/late 20s and now it is only downhill from here? Certainly this has not been my intention, but I also do not intend to spend the rest of my life vagabonding about from city to city in search of adventure. I do not want the sum of my life to be the cities I have lived in and the amount of times I have moved. Yet, I fear that to settle (down) will be to resign myself to a life of boredom. I will spend the rest of my days suffering from a chronic case of itchy feet.
Last night I tell this to my mum whose response is "maybe you will find new adventure with a husband and kids". I immediately think, but do not verbalize, "maybe I will find a cure for cancer, too". At this point in my life that is about how realistic a husband and kids seems. I am still not convinced that path is in the cards for me.
I spend the rest of the evening contemplating that perhaps the larger issue here is that I am still stuck at square one. Shit.
I love to learn and am always on the search for new and interesting facts (mostly so that I can use this trivial information to impress and/or bore people). Recently, while perusing the rack of post cards at the Cheddar Head Store in La Crosse, I learned that the state motto of Wisconsin is "forward". I turned to my friends, also Wisconsin natives, "Did you know this?" Ben says, "Yeah, it's on a statue at the court house (or some such governmental building)". Hm, apparently I had missed this little tid-bit, but I was excited by my newly acquired knowledge and tucked it away in the back pocket of my mind.
However, as my dad and I traversed the country on my way back to Portland, I kept thinking about this word forward. Leaving my family and friends in Wisconsin and Minnesota had been especially hard this time, and my heart was feeling pretty heavy. Over the past few years I have slowly begun to rediscover how beautiful the Midwest is and how blessed I am to have been raised there. Yet, I always felt that moving back "home" could only mean I was moving backwards. This is something I have always refused to do in my life; I have set my focus on forward movement and tried never to look back.
But now as I review my short list of places that I would like to move, and the list of pros and cons I have mentally made for them all, the list of cons for Minneapolis is the shortest. In fact, it only has one item on it: winter. Perhaps moving "back" doesn't mean moving backwards after all. While it might mean moving through snow it feels like it might be the most forward movement I've made in years.
I've only made it to two shows this summer (an all time low I think) and this was one of them. This band from Omaha, NE is absolutely outstanding. If you haven't already been listening to them, start doing it now. Now.
The Avett Brothers : Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promises
These guys were the second show I saw this summer. I saw them last summer at Sasquatch and thought they were pretty rockin, so took the opportunity to see them headline. I was not disappointed. There song "Kick Drum Heart" has been known to add an extra umph to my workouts, too.
Mumford & Sons : Little Lion Man
I saw these guys several years ago at a tiny little dive bar in London and sort of forgot about them until they came blasting across the radio waves on 94.7. I am now sad for all the years I missed them.
Janelle Monae : Tightrope
Such an outstandingly killer tune. Every time I hear it I just wanna dance. Dance, baby, dance. My legs move a little faster when this comes on my Shuffle.
Scissor Sisters : Fire with Fire
I've said it before and I'll say it again, Jake Shears makes me want to be a gay man. Night Work was well worth the wait and is an fabulously gay rock opera. Loves it and can't wait to see them in September.
Florence + the Machine : Dog Days are Over
I've known about this band for quite some time, but have to admit it wasn't until seeing the preview for Eat, Pray, Love that I had no choice but to download their album. So. Good.
David Bowie : Modern Love
Because I am a sucker for the classics and this song speaks to me on an unearthly level.
I am regularly told that Hendrix surprises people. They are amazed that a pit bull mix can be so submissive, loving and delightfully playful. They say, "oh, she is not at all what I imagined a pit bull would be like". I assure them that despite what they may have previously believed she is not the exception to the breed but the rule. She is a living example of how wonderful and loyal these dogs not only can be, but are.
This of course has got me to thinking about how I might too become a living example of how wonderful the human breed can be.
In several of my courses recently we have discussed advocacy and being an ally. What exactly qualifies you for this status? Can you simply call yourself an advocate? Is there a certain process one must go through, particular steps that must be taken, boxes that must be ticked? I would argue no. It came to me the other day during Intro to Family Therapy, one can be an advocate simply by living a life that leaves no doubt as to where you stand on the issue. That is in fact exactly how I try to live my life. I hope that there is never any doubt as to what I am passionate about.
I do not have the time I would like to be able to give to charities and volunteer work. If there were 26 hours in the day I would give the extra two away, but instead I take the 24 I am given and put them towards my education in hopes that one day soon I will more adequately be able to help change the world. And until I am able to be a more active ally I use my voice as my tool for change. I stand up for what I believe in and make my voice heard.
This summer has been exhausting for me. My 14 credit course load hasn't taken the wind out of my sails, but it has taken away my time and motivation to blog. I barely have enough time to keep up with all my reading and writing let alone find the time to infiltrate the blogosphere with my self-indulgent ramblings. However, I have had an ample amount of time reflect on the type of therapist I hope to one day become and in turn the kind of world I hope to help create. A better kind of world that my nephew's will inherit and be thankful to have.
I hope my nephews never know the hate, injustice and inequality that exists in our world today. I pray that Sytahn never has racial slurs hit his perfect little ears. That the world accepts him for the beautiful, thoughtful, loving little boy that he is. That he is able to maintain his innocence and curiosity and so be able to grow to be a beautiful, thoughtful, loving young man.
I hope that they both come of age in a world were we openly and happily acknowledge that love is love. We finally understand that love does not care about gender or sexual identity, so that my wonderful nephews will be able to love and be loved in a way that makes them happy and fulfilled without judgement or disgust.
I want the world they inherit to be full of the goodness I see in it. To be free of war and hatred. A world where there is no need for political statement t-shirts or bumper stickers.
I hope Tyson has access to every advantage and opportunity that he deserves. That he never has to know the taunts or teases of unkind classmates. That he meets and exceeds the expectations set for him by ignorant political blowhards.
I pray that every day they understand how much they are loved and how precious of a commodity they are not only to my family but to the world. That they are filled with fire and inspiration to make the world a better place, to treat others with the kindness that so fully inhabits them both. That they are strong to stand up to the ugliness in the world and encompass the ethos of community.
I want the world they inherit to be better simply because they are in it.
As part of my portfolio requirements for my master's program I have to complete 10 hours of therapy, which I am trying to take seriously. Number 1: I'm paying this woman a considerable amount of money to not and number 2: I will be the first to admit that I am not without my issues.
The point here though is not to go over these issues. There isn't enough blog space in the world for that. But my therapist did say something the other week that really resonated with me and I've been thinking about it ever since. Just sort of in passing she mentioned that it seems like I've hit the reset button on my life. At first I just agreed and didn't think much of it, but the more I thought about it the more I realized that is exactly what I've done.
I look back at a certain period of my life, let's just call it college, and I think, "how was I that girl?" Then I begrudgingly moved back to the US and spent 2 1/2 years in Phoenix trying to figure out who exactly I was if not that girl. I know I wasn't always a treat to be around for that period of time. I am sure that more than one person was turned off and turned away from my incessant "this isn't my life either" mentality, but it was all part of the process of getting me here. Of getting me to this point where I can say "it doesn't matter who I was but who I want to be" and reaching out and hitting that reset button.
I may not love Portland, but I love my life and I love who I have become, the best me I can be.
I think it is fair to say that most women (whoa, yes, I just referred to girls as women) my age have at least the slightest bit of fear about turning into their mother. Don't get me wrong, I love my mum. She's an awesome and inspiring lady. She has done far more with her life than I'm sure I ever will and thus has taught me that being a strong woman is where it's at. But in many respects we are polar opposites. Sure, I insist that my towels are folded a certain way (not her way, but nonetheless it's an inherited trait) and that the toilet paper must come from the top down, but I am the hippie child that my mum cannot figure out how she spawned. On more than one occasion I have heard her say, "how did you turn out like this?" Not in a bad way. She loves me, hippie, flightiness and all, but looks aside, the apple obviously rolled down the hill after it fell off the tree. Needless to say, my mum and I do not always see eye to eye (mostly on all things relating to politics and my love of Barack Obama and her love of Sarah Palin). We hardly ever argue, but it is generally agreed that we simply do not agree. However, political views aside, my mum is a pretty insightful lady. I rarely make any kind of major decision without consulting her and she truly is one of my best friends. If I have a terrible day, it is her number that I dial first.
It seems strange, but we did not become close until after my parents divorced. Prior to that I was an annoyed tween that was generally quite unpleasant. Mostly because I didn't like myself very much. It was during this time that Mum started preaching the gospel of "You only get better with age". I didn't see how this could be possible. I only saw myself getting uglier and fatter. I'd probably end up with braces (I did) and glasses (those too) and be alone with my cats (except I'm allergic) for the rest of my life. What did this lady know?
Slowly, I started to see a glimmer of hope. I lost 30 pounds the summer I lived in London and the world seemed a little brighter. I wasn't exactly the queen of popularity in high school but I disliked it anyway and made it through unscathed, for the most part. I went on to college where boys started to notice me. Whoa. The end of my time in London was a bit of a low point for me, but I returned to the US determined to take the time to better myself, at least physically. While everything else seemed to be spinning out of control I figured at the very least I could handle that one aspect of my life.
Today, I am 60 pounds lighter than I was at 13. But more then being physically better, somewhere between the time when my mum starting preaching her crazy gospel and now, I actually really started liking myself. I discovered that she was right. At 27, I wear less make up than I have in years, I enjoy spending time alone and have the confidence to try pretty much anything. I can laugh at myself and not get torn up when others laugh at me. In fact, I've discovered that I get immense pleasure out of making others laugh, even if it is at me. I rarely look back at high school nostalgically, mostly because I really didn't like it, but also because I can hardly believe that I was once that girl who let other's opinion of her get her down. Now I say, "if you don't like me, nuts to you, that's your problem".
Recently my mum and I were talking about how I spent several of my early 20s years faking it until I could make it. I wasn't exactly where or what I wanted to be, but I figured that eventually I'd buy into my own attempt at confidence. Eventually I did. And I was surprised to hear that Mum too has at points in her life faked it to make it. I guess maybe we're more alike than I thought.
I haven't given up something for Lent in years, literally. The last time I can recall was in high school and that was a pretty half-assed attempt at giving up pop. We were always told that if you could give it up for Lent you should be able to give it up forever. I generally agree with this philosophy, but since I do not attend church regularly (and putting it that way is generous) I wanted to find my own way to reflect on Jesus' sacrifice. After talking to a good friend and discovering that she'd been veggie for four months I decided to give a little more thought to how much meat I was consuming. It was far more than I had thought and it was definitely not that kind of meat I should be eating, i.e. it was highly processed junk meat. Thus, I gave up meat.
Lent is technically the 40 days between Ash Wednesday and Palm Sunday, but I decided to go for the gold and tack on the extra 7 days until Easter. That means I can officially eat meat today, but I have no plans to do so. I have no plans to do so in the immediate future, but I also do not plan to convert to being a full-on vegetarian. Instead, I am trying to figure out a middle ground where I contentiously consume meat no more than once a week. Perhaps this seems somewhat counterproductive, but another friend made a very valid argument: why punish an entire industry when there are those farmers who are not so unethical? Yes, they are still killing animals, but I do still believe that animals are meant to be eaten. I enjoy eating meat, but I also cannot deny how amazing I have felt since I've given it up.
However, this cannot entirely be attributed to going veggie. It is not just that I have not eaten meat, but that I have put much more consideration into what I put in my body in general. I have been eating better overall and I can certainly continue to do so and occasionally eat meat. At least meat that is locally raised because the biggest part of the plan overall is to buy locally whether it is meat or fruits and vegetables. It's my own little food revolution.
Ok, I know, running a 5k is really not that big of a deal. To be honest, I run at least 3.1 miles every day at the gym, but there is something about the feeling of crossing a finish line that makes a proper 5k feel like so much more. It's the atmosphere at a race that is infectious. All of those people cheering you on, the slight smell of competition in the air and the need to push yourself further and faster than you thought you could.
I'd been a bit nervous about not performing as well as I thought I should and last night I was even more anxious given that it was Daylight Savings Time today. Needless to say, my clock sprung ahead at about 7pm and I had two alarms set. I didn't want to feel rushed getting to the race and wanted plenty of time to mentally prepare since I would be running "alone".
I arrived at Waterfront Park with plenty of time to check my things and try to keep myself warm while huddled together with the 7500 other runners. The starting temperature today was 34 but with all my endorphins rushing at full force I didn't notice the cold much. I decided my usual workout mix was not going to cut it today and opted instead to give the Black Eyed Peas a try. Under normal circumstances I am not at all a fan, but I had heard their latest album was great motivation so I bought it a few weeks ago when it was on sale on iTunes (and hadn't listened to it yet). And I will tell you what, it was worth every penny. Every song was like a mini anthem pushing me to run just that little bit faster, urging me to pass that lady in front of me, telling me this could be my personal best.
Unfortunately, I forgot my watch at home in my hurried haze to get to the park early so I am not entirely sure of my finishing time yet. They will be posted this evening and you can be assured that I will be logged into the website at 8:59, ready and waiting for the clock to strike 9. My estimate is somewhere around 28 minutes. The fastest I have done on the treadmill is 28:30, so I crossed the finish line feeling pretty amped and wishing I had signed up for the 8k because I'm sure I could have run the extra few miles with ease.
I'm hooked now. It didn't take much. I'm running the Run for the Roses 5k next month and I secretly signed up for the Foot Traffic Flat half marathon today. Shhhhhhhh. Now it's time to get serious.
In an effort to keep up with my No Re-wear Challenge (which is still going strong, despite my lack of posting on the matter) I have been doing some more closet shopping. Having dropped almost 10 pounds and probably more since the last time I wore some of these things, it isn't much of a surprise that most of them went straight into the Buffalo Exchange/Goodwill pile after wearing. What has been a little surprising though is that two pairs of jeans I purchased over Christmas break are now too big. Now, I know what you're saying "Oh, poor girl, losing too much weight" and you're right...poor girl.
Perhaps for the first time in my life I am making a genuine attempt at keeping my finances under control and my credit card in my wallet. With this in mind, my shopping has been kept to a minimum. These days it is mostly sports bras, running leggings and socks. It's pretty easy to justify these purchases when I wear them every day. While I have replaced a few items, I am desperately trying to hold off on any major purchases until my trip to New York this spring.
In the meantime, my give away bags are bursting at the seams and the amount of free hangers in my closet quickly closes in on the number of occupied ones. I'm also trying to get very creative with ways to keep making original outfits and not being too bothered by the fact that they might be a little baggier than I prefer. It's all about self-control and discipline. Who knew that getting in shape would require me to apply these tactics to my finances too?
I have recently come to the realization that this semester is silently kicking my ass. I have slowly but surely gotten myself behind and I am not entirely sure how I am going to catch up, but I am currently living in the possible delusion that it will absolutely happen. After spring break, of course. Life (as far as school is concerned) has no choice but to get better after spring break.
In the meantime, I have somehow unhooked my anchor and am presently floating around the atmosphere of my mind. I started graduate school certain that I wanted to spend the rest of my life on a college campus. When I discovered that in order to work at a university counseling center I would have to get a PhD, I was game. I immediately started investigating my options. However, slowly but surely I started to allow other options to creep in and have recently become increasingly passionate about one of these options.
Those of you who know me well know that this is pretty natural for me. I am constantly changing my mind, switching gears and roaring off in another direction. With this in mind, I am nervous to even say the words aloud. What if this is just another one of my cockamamie ideas that will fall by the weigh side as quick as the rest? But, what if it's not? What if I have actually stumbled on something I actually want to do with the rest of my life? Scary. Maybe I need to give Plan B (not the birth control pill) a closer look.
Somewhere in my twenties I decided it was always best to assume that every guy I meet already has a girlfriend. Therefore, every guy, unless otherwise specified it off limits to me. I know this is illogical and counterproductive thinking, but it has served me well. Oh, wait, no, it actually hasn't at all, but that is neither here nor there in regards to the current topic.
What is important is that somewhere along the line this became true. Now that I'm in my late twenties it seems that yes, all guys (at least those I might be interested in) do in fact have girlfriends. I missed the memo: grab a boyfriend as fast as you can before they are all gone. Oops! My b! I was busy being adventurous and vagabonding across the country, figuring out who it is exactly that I am. I figured that was more important. I still do, but while I was out collecting life experience I was also ignoring the boys that really didn't have girlfriends. I as busy building up a wall with all my mental postcards and now all I have to show for it are pictures and stories.
I have lost many of my guy friends over the years and with everyone pairing off like they're getting ready to board the ark it hasn't been easy to replace them. Through experience that I prefer not to get into here, I have learned that it is best not to try to do so with boys that have girlfriends. Let me just say, it generally does not end with you gaining a friend. Too often it ends with complication and mess.
Mess that can be avoided by simply avoiding boys with girlfriends. So apparently this means I just avoid guys in general. Luckily, I'm already off to an awesome start.
When I was living in London I remember having a discussion with a bloke who had recently visited the MidWest. Naturally, I asked him what he thought. He commented that he felt like everyone was fake. I was flabbergasted. How could this be? His response: everyone is so friendly there, no one can really be that friendly. Oh, but we are, my friend, we are.
Today I am grateful for being from the MidWest. I am in no rush to move back to Wisconsin, but every time I go home I realize how blessed I am to have grown up there. Not only are La Crosse and the Mississippi Valley extremely gorgeous and picturesque, but the people there are genuine and welcoming. They are happy to strike up a conversation with anyone, happy to lend an ear or a hand to a stranger and truly know the meaning of friendly. They don't look at you like you have a second head when you ask for a favor and they don't brush you off when you just feel like a chat as you're checking out at the grocery store.
I'm quite convinced life would look a little darker if I had grown up somewhere else because I am certain my sunny disposition can be attributed to the great state of Wisconsin.
As some of my loyal readers will remember, last year I did a lot of closet shopping. I hadn't done any in a while, so last week I decided to dig out some stuff I couldn't remembering wearing since I'd moved to Portland. Naturally, I only remembered to take pictures two days...it was a very busy week for this graduate student.
Monday - Animal Instincts
Shirt Dress: Gap Cardigan: Macy's Leggings: Target Belt: Forever21 (?) Ballet Flats: Target (you can't see them)
I love wearing this belt with outfits that would otherwise be fairly boring. I happened to get loads of compliments on it this day, which is always nice.
Necklace and matching earrings: gift from me mum (purchased in Italy)
Tuesday - Spring Awakening
Top: Urban Outfitters Shorts: H&M Tights: Gap (?)
Flats: gift from me mum (Steve Madden)
Earrings: Forever21
I bought this outfit last spring when I was in New York. I love the top, especially when paired with this vibrant orange scarf I purchased during the same trip. In fact, I wore it that night to class.
What is so great about closet shopping is not only did I find some things I forgot I owned, but I also discovered that many of them are now too big. A nice little ego boost and a lot of encouragement to keep working my butt off (literally, apparently) at the gym.
Let me first preface this by saying that I am not against internet dating or matchmaking sites in their entirety. I have numerous friends who have used them, all of whom have been successful and are now in committed relationships as a result. They are just not for me, so please don't be offended or take anything I say hereafter personally. It's not about you, it's about me.
In all honesty, I can't quite wrap my head around finding love on-line. I guess maybe that isn't such a big surprise since I am not such a fan of technology. I resisted a digital camera for years, I currently refuse to get anything close to a smart phone, I have on more than one occasion called my mom to help me with computer problems. I have also very intentionally decided to go into a field that requires minimal interactions with computers. I might seem like a pretty modern lady, but when it comes down to it I am as old fashioned as they come. Thus, I refuse to allow myself to use technology to find love.
I'm sure if you asked some of my friends they would tell you that I'm just being pig headed and stubborn, but I am here to tell you this is not the case (at least not in this particular circumstance). I do want to find love, someone to share my life with, but I don't want it to involve a computer. I have been ruined for anything else and here is how.
1. My grandparents were, and still are, the greatest love story I have ever heard. They were set up by my grandma's future brother-in-law when my grandpa was stationed in Texas and she was living in Dallas. Their first (blind) date was a lunch date. My grandpa picked up my grandma at the office of a liquor store where she worked as a bookkeeper (very scandalous for a good Baptist girl) and they went to a local diner. Grandma was hooked right away, Grandpa was a very handsome and charming man, and that was that. They kept in touch while he was in Europe fighting and he proposed by letter, even sending money for her to buy a ring (that I'm pretty sure she still wears). They were married for 58 years when my grandpa passed away and they were just as in love then as they day they were married.
2. Even though my parents are not still married, they are still friends and they were married for 25 years. They met at a bar in downtown La Crosse when my dad approached my mom because they were in a class together and he had liked a skirt she had worn. A skirt she claims was extremely ugly. After their first date she went back to her roommate and proclaimed she was going to marry him, and less than a year later she did. My mom still laughs every time she tells the story and my dad still acts mildly embarrassed.
3. My mom and step-dad were friends for about 15 years before they got married. He was her boss for years; I can remember her telling stories about him at the dinner table. She always referred to him as Beard. Although he is several years (18 to be exact) years her senior they are in fact best friends. I have rarely seen them argue, and they seem to have a love and respect for each other that I can only attribute to their strong friendship. My step-dad's advice for a successful marriage: marry a friend.
4. My dad and step-mom were set up by family friends, and I was pretty sure from the get-go that they were going to work out. They took a short break a year or so into their relationship and I cried for days; I was convinced my dad wasn't going to find anyone else as well suited for him. It hasn't always been smooth sailing, but they have a great partnership and a whole lot of respect for one another. They balance each other out well and in April they will be married 10 years.
5. My Aunt Karen got married a little later in life to maybe not the nicest guy in the world. I adore my Aunt Karen, so needless to say I was deeply saddened to discover she was going to be single again. When she moved back to Wisconsin I wondered what she would do, I didn't want her to be sad or lonely. I was worrying in vein. She met my Uncle Jim when he came into her work at city hall. They had known each other when they were younger through farming, but hadn't kept in touch and were never close friends. He, unlike her first husband, is a kind and gentle man, much like my grandpa. He has a killer sense of humor and doesn't waste his words. I wasn't sure at first if I was supposed to call him uncle since I was 22 or so when they married, but it didn't take long for me to decide on my own that I wanted him to be my uncle. I love listening to them talk about retiring and growing old together, it makes my heart smile.
All of these great love stories I have heard or witnessed in my life and none of them include the internet. I want the same for myself. I want the same great love that my grandparents, parents and aunt have found and I want it the good old fashioned way. I want to tell my kids a great story about how I met Dad at some random place at some random time and how magical it was. I admittedly have very high standards and will settle for nothing less. And if it doesn't happen? It doesn't happen and it wasn't meant to be.
Last week, in honor of getting old, I decided to dare myself to wear a t-shirt and jeans every day. For those of you who know me well, you know I don't very often wear jeans, let alone every day for 7 days. Since my outfits weren't very inspirational I forgot to take pictures every day but one...my birthday!
Tuesday - Marriage is gay.
Sweater: Gap T-shirt: on-line purchase ** Jeans: Gap Boots (you can't see): E-bay
Days of No Re-wear: 26
** If you like my t-shirt and are a supporter of the cause, please consider buying one of you own at www.marriageissogay.com. You can choose a charity that you would like a portion of the proceeds to be shared with.
Better late than never...it's been a bit of a busy week.
Mono y Mono Last week's theme was black and white.
Monday - Trailblazer
Blazer: Old Navy Dress: H&M Tights: Target Boots (you can't see): Ebay
Necklace: Etsy
Tuesday - Don't forget your pencil (skirt)
Vest: Some random store at Tempe Marketplace T-shirt: H&M Skirt: H&M Tights: American Apparel Bracelet: Forever21 (gift from Peter)
Earrings: Urban Outfitters (gift from Lindsay Haney)
Flats: Target
Wednesday - Hip-hip hipster
T-shirt: Primark Tank top: Target Jeans: H&M Scarf: ??
Earrings: Forever21
Shoes: TOMS **
Days of no re-wear: 19
** If you like my TOMS please consider buying a pair of your own. For every pair you buy a pair is given to a child in need. Check them out at www.tomsshoes.com.
Before I moved to Portland I was convinced that once I arrived in the Rose City the stars would align in cosmic perfection and this would be the most amazing place I had ever lived and I would not want to leave. Ever. Unfortunately, such has not been the case. It is not that I don't like Portland, but rather that it simply is not the geographic bliss I had imagined it would be. Couple this with my desire to continue my career as a professional student (yup, you got it, I'm planning on a PhD after my MSc) and you've got yourself another geographic short list (some of you may remember the short list from my days in Phoenix trying to decide where to move for graduate school). In no particular order, here is the new and improved short list:
1. San Francisco California is a magical, mystical place for me, which quite possibly may be attributed, at least partly, to Led Zeppelin's Going to California. The sunshine and the laid back attitudes are pretty much my idea of heaven on earth.
I'm currently having an especially steamy love affair with San Francisco. I have several really great friends that live there (bonus feature 1) and the city itself has a very European feel to it (bonus feature 2). Plus, there is absolutely nothing wrong with being that close to the ocean.
2. New York City I have had a love/hate relationship with New York for several years now. I love it so much and I hate that I can't ever seem to afford to move there. There is still a part of me that finds New York to be the poor man's London. But if you can't be in London why not be in the next best place?
Like London there is always something to do (bonus feature 1) and there is culture to be found everywhere (bonus feature 2). Plus, the best roommate I have ever had lives there, which is a huge draw in and of itself. And the fashion. Oh, the fashion.
3. Phoenix I spent most of my two and a half years in Phoenix trying to figure out how to leave Phoenix. I do not miss the city, but I miss my friends there tremendously. I also miss being close to my mom and step-dad (at least half of the year). And there really is something to be said for having sunshine every day (bonus feature 1). Oh, and there's also something to be said for really good Mexican food (bonus feature 2).
4. Minneapolis In all honesty, I'm not sure I could ever do a real winter again (something to think about when considering New York too), but I do often think about moving back to the Midwest. However, the thought usually passes after spending a few chill days there. Yet, all but one of my siblings live in the Twin Cities and it is very close to my family (bonus feature 1). It is also one of the most underrated cities in the US with a plethora of culture, shopping, good food and good music (bonus feature 2).
5. Austin I am one quarter Texan. As a kid I spent a summer living in Greenville (pronounced Green-vull), TX. I have for some time suspected that I am perhaps destined to spend more of my life deep in the heart of Texas, getting in touch with my Texas roots.
The biggest benefit of Austin is that it is not at all like the rest of Texas. It is like a little oasis in the red desert. Plus, the city itself it similar to Portland, but with much better weather.
Honorable mentions: San Diego, Chicago, Denver and Boston
Anyone who knows me well knows that I tend to change my mind as frequently as most change their underwear. It is not that I am flighty but more that I tend to get exceptionally passionate about something, someone, some place and can think only of that object until another eventually and inevitably comes along. This has not hurt me in any way (thus far), but I am sure has been more than irritating for my friends and family who have on more than one occasion taken me a little too seriously. I always mean well and there is a small part of me that truly did want to move to Austin, TX, go into music supervision, travel the world to visit every friend I have, get my masters in film theory, fill in your favorite Kelly life plan here.
As I age and mature, I suppose, I am teaching myself to keep focused on one plan and for the past three years that one plan has been to find a way to make a profession out of helping others. The parameters of that helping has changed slightly, one month it was troubled teens, the next was teens dealing with substance abuse, another grown children of divorced parents, and now it's college student. Wherever I eventually land, I know that I want to be in the helping profession. I know I want to spend my life being compassionate and empathetic. For that, today I am grateful to have the ability to put my life on hold for at least two years so I can pursue my master's in community counseling.
My Life in Skirts I try to pick some kind of theme for my outfits each week (I know, I'm a complete nerd) and this week I decided to do variations on my favorite article of clothing, the skirt.
Tuesday - The Uniform Cardigan: Old Navy T-shirt: American Eagle Skirt: Target Tights: American Apparel (you can't tell, but they're real purple) Boots: Forever21
Necklaces: the blue one is a Christmas gift (from my awesome friend, Laura) and the other is an oldie from Forever21
Trench: Target (one of my best purchases ever) Scarf: gift from my friend of friends, Jill (for being in her wedding) Puppy: Maricopa County Pound
Wednesday - Paris Je T'aime Top: H&M Skirt: Target Tights: Target Shoes: Steven (purchased at Nordstrom) **It took everything I had not to wear my red beret with this outfit.
Earrings: Francis (super cute boutique in Phoenix)
Thursday - Fooled Ya! Dress as Skirt: Old Navy Shirt: Forever21 Belt: Old Navy Tights: Old Navy Boots: Ebay
Necklaces: Christmas gift from my rad friend, Lyndsey
Days of No Re-wear: 12
**Clearly still working on the self-portraits. Any suggestions anyone??
