Happiness

It doesn't happen often.

Honestly.

But today? Today I want to sing and dance and twirl around in celebration of how AWESOME life is.

You Capture - America

It's all about the simple things in life. It's about something that touches you deep in your heart and warms you up from the inside. It's something that you can't experience anywhere else in the world, something that reminds you of your youth and playing outside in grassy fields. It's about pure happiness and the sort of love that withstands 100 years of failure.

There are a million reasons to feel proud to be an American. But there are just a few things that touch my soul and remind me of hot summer days, being free and hoping that next year will be even better than this one.

And it's about the classics. America is classic. Times change and we evolve as a country but a few things will always stay the same. We will always be proud. We will always be strong. And we will always love food.

Expectations

Today was a day of mixed emotions. I kept bouncing back and forth between happy and annoyed, frustrated and loved. Days like today (thankfully) don't come around very often, but oh when they do.. it's impossible to shake the feeling. So instead of crawling into bed and looking forward to the day I have planned tomorrow I am sitting at my computer and wondering if maybe I am a god awful friend and person.

I want to be a good friend. I want to be the friend that people turn to and confide in. I want to be the friend in all of the good memories and the only people lean on during the bad. But, I want to be that friend for all of my friends and I know that's not always possible. I can't be there for everyone. I can't be everything for everyone all the time. That doesn't change the fact that I want to be.

Even with writing this, I worry that I'm going to offend people. I worry that people are going to read my feelings as selfish. But I should be able to say what's on my mind without worrying about how other people are going to take it. I made that promise to myself.

I cannot meet all of the expectations people place on me. I cannot be the good daughter, the good friend, the good wife and the good whatever that people demand me to me. Not all at once. Sometimes I have to make a choice and when that happens I will always end up choosing one person over another. I don't do it because I care about Person B more than Person A or vice versa. I do it for me. I do it because it's what I need in my life. Sometimes, yes, I need to make decisions that are about me. And what really, really bothers me is when people can't respect that.

I cannot make everyone happy. I can't always be there for everyone. I'd love to have that ability. I'd love to be able to make everyone around me happy, but it's not possible. So when I have people upset with me because they feel as though I've replaced them.. it hurts my feelings a great deal. It hurts me to think that people who claim to love me would think that I've chosen someone else over them. I haven't. But there are only so many hours in a day and only so many days in a week. I don't have an infinite amount of time to spread around.

Sigh. I'm ranting now and that's not what I wanted to do. I wanted to clear my head before I went to sleep, but it looks like that isn't happening. I just need to tell myself that I'm not a bad person and that I shouldn't be hard on myself because I can't please everyone.

And maybe, just maybe, hope for an extra big hug from my husband tomorrow.

Meager Earnings

Inside my desk there is a stack of bills. Medical bills, NIPSCO, Comcast, etc. All horrible pieces of paper demanding money from me. Sometimes demanding money that I don't have. We are so far deep in a hole that it's impossible to see the surface. But there isn't a price for life. (Okay, so it's just under $200K, but still.) When I see my phone light up with another collector wanting their share of money I get so angry.

All we did was help Greg get better. We have insurance. For part of it, we had two different isurance policies. But it is still not enough. And they don't want to accept that I do not make enough money to satisfy all my debts instantly. To them their debt is the single most important of mine.

I get so frustrated sometimes. You hear stories on the news about people living paycheck to paycheck. And I bet some of you wonder why they just don't pay their bills. Why are people living in trailers and driving cars that don't work? Because things happen. And despite how hard you pray or how many hours in a week you work... things happen. People get sick and nearly die. People lose their jobs. Things break. It's part of life.

I have so many friends who cannot possibly understand my situation. They've never suffered from lay offs or illness. They've never fallen behind on car payments. They've never had to live off of Ramen because everything else was too expensive. And it's hard. We're in a much better place now than we were a few years ago, but we're still not good.

I'm embarrased to admit I live in a trailer. I'm ashamed to tell people that I can't get a loan for a new car. It pains me to even write this blog, but I want people to understand something.

Financial problems aren't due to people being too stupid/lazy/selfish. I know I'm none of those things. So as I sit here hoping a praying that my car doesn't cost more than the pitiful amount in my bank account to repair... look at what you have and please be grateful you're not in my situation. Don't take the level of comfort you have for granted. And please, please don't judge the people you see who are struggling.

You Capture - FUN

When you work full time and fill the remaining hours with chores and errands it's not always easy to have fun. In the summer I'm reminded of this constantly when I see other people talk about spending days at the park or being with their family and friends while I'm at my desk.

But sometimes I remember to have fun.

Last Saturday, Greg and I went to Q101's Jamboree. We had lawn seats, watched people and listened to some great music. And while I learned that I'm a) too old and b) too pale to sit in the lawn anymore it was still a good time.

Greg, June 19, 2010, Q101 Jamboree

Red Headed Step Child

I'm hurting at the moment. The fact that I'm sharing it with anyone is a big step for me because I don't like telling people when I'm hurting. But right now in this very moment I am.

I think my brother may be in town from California. And how did I discover this? My oldest brother made a Facebook post. "My brother can party." Maybe he's hearing a story from Kory, but it's far more likely they are together.

I'm never told when he is coming out here. I rarely see him when he does come out here. I'm twenty-seven years old and I still just want my brothers to love..hell, I want them to like me. But maybe it's time to accept that they don't and never will.

I know we come from a blended family. I know that we don't share any blood, but I've never seen them as anything but my brothers. It really sucks knowing that they don't feel the same way. All I ever wanted when I was little was a family and then I was handed one. My dad came along with this huge family filled with people and handed it to me. I thought it was the answer to all my prayers.

But I don't talk to most of them. I sincerely doubt they talk to me or think about me. I'm just the outsider that's smiled at and said hello to when I show up for family events. No one calls me. No one invites me directly to any function. And no matter how many times I tell myself I don't care...

I do. I really, really care.

I'm supposed to be a grown up. I'm supposed to be okay with things like this. But I'm not. I can handle my extended family not caring about me much.. but knowing that my big brothers forget about me and don't really care?

That's not something I'll ever be okay with.

You Capture - Sky

I know I complain all. the. time. about where I live.

But honestly? I love this area. I love the mixture of country and city. I love the corn fields. I love the quiet at night.

I love the blue sky of summer against the green of the trees.





This summer I play on spending as much time as possible outside and loving the bright blue sky.

It's not easy.

I've had people ask me how I can stay with someone for so long. I wish there was a big secret I could let everyone in on. I want my friends to find the same happiness I have with Greg. But there isn't a secret. It's really hard and we work constantly at being happy and staying together. People who say marriage is easy? They're full of crap. It's not easy, but it's so rewarding and worth it.

And I know one day, in ten or twenty years, we'll be able to look back at the start of our marriage and be thankful for everything we had to go through. Because I plan on seeing my 50th anniversary with this man and I know by then it will be easy.

In all honesty, I've been with him for so long that I can't imagine not being with him.

That isn't to say he doesn't annoy me. He does. All the time. Daily. Hourly sometimes. And I have have a few friends that have seen us together and know that we're not perfect. We bicker. We swear at each other.

I still love him though. We've been through so much together. People always say not to get married young. Sometimes I'd agree with them and somedays I wouldn't. I was only 22 when I was married and I started seriously dating Greg when I was 18. So young. But I don't think I'd be the well adjusted, happy go lucky person I am today (shut up, I so am) without having him as a part of my daily life for the last nine years.

HOWEVER.

If he continues to use three glasses a day and leave them scattered around me house I may be forced to divorce him. Because that is really annoying. Jerkface.

Learning

I know I've been going on and on about my new job, but I can't help myself. It's been too long since I've had a job that really made me feel good about myself. Out of 35 applicants, they chose me. I stood out because of my experience and my personality. And that right there? That makes me feel really good about myself.

Not only does this job make me feel good, but it makes me want to better myself. I want to gather up all the knowledge I can and move forward. I don't want to sit around and do nothing all day. When I think back to five days ago, I'm amazed. Instead of learning and living, I was sitting. Sitting still and wishing the hours of my life by. Watching the clock and willing it to move faster. For the last four years or so, I've been wishing my life away. But now? Now I barely look at the clock and when I do I'm amazed at how quickly the day has gone.

I allowed myself to sit still for too long. Well I'm done sitting! My desire for knowledge and growth and challenges sparked back up again. I'm eager to turn this job into a career. I know I can do it. I know the opportunity is there. Finally I have my momentum back and I'm never going to sit still again.

Every single day is a chance to learn something new. There was no one at CLO willing to teach me. They were content to allow me to sit and I accepted that far too easily. No more. Now I'm not letting myself settle. I don't care if it's hard or stressful, I'm going to keep pushing myself to be better. I want to learn. I want to be a part of a company that encourages me to grow.

But more than anything.. I've stopped wishing my life away. There's no need to.

New.

I have ten minutes before I'm heading out the door for my second day of work. Ten minutes to do anything I want. I've already spent an hour this morning lazing about because I didn't need to rush. I've already showered, pulled on a cute dress with leggings, done my hair and makeup and had a quick breakfast. I've played with the dog, checked my e-mail and even goofed off on Facebook.

Yes, yes I do like this new routine.

Soon I'll be driving over to Valpo and my new office. I know there will be work for me to do today. I know that people will be friendly and I don't have to fear snarky and inappropriate/rude comments. I know that if I have a question on something, someone will help me.

But more than anything... I know how much happier I feel. Lighter. I came home last night utterly exhausted from all the new information I had to process. Not to mention all of the up and down moving around I was doing. But you know what? Totally worth it. I might have been tired and ready to sleep for a week, but it was a good sort of tired.

Not dreading my mornings and days is the first step to reclaiming the happiness I've been missing the last few months. Knowing that soon I'll be able to have a full and happy life keeps me going.

Jackasses Forever

Sometimes I feel as though I should have a certain group of friends to make me laugh. People I go out with on the weekends and share all of my life with. And then I remember I have that group of friends. I have a best friend who has known me over half my life and gets me like no one else does. And through her, I have a second family.

My family is great. They are. But I've never felt a connection with some of them. Maybe it's because I came along later than everyone else. Maybe it's because they don't really know me. Or maybe it's a distance thing, but we aren't that close. And I always wanted a family I was close to.

So, I became an honorary member of the Jackass Clan.

Late nights filled with laughing, telling stories, and nearly crying and/or peeing are what family is about. Really. Saying things you shouldn't because you forget Grandpa is in the room, texting words you can't say in front of Grandpa and drinking Dr Pepper. It's all perfect and I'm so lucky that I've met all these people.

I really, really love them all.

It's good to be a Jackass.

An Ode to Ma (Part One)

I was going to write something up on Sunday about how amazing my mom is and how much she means to me. That will still happen because my Ma is kind of awesome and deserves to be glorified and all that crap. But, I’m seeing this weekend as a golden opportunity to write three different posts about my mother. It’ll be fun. You’ll learn things about her that you might not know. And I never, EVER, pass up the chance to tease my mother. She deserves it. Growing up she was AWFUL to me. I mean, really awful. I don’t know how I survived all these years.

Have you ever seen my mother and I together? We look alike. Not just a little either. People can look at me and know that I’m Leanne’s daughter. I’ve heard “Oh you’re Leanne’s daughter!” more times than I can count. And while we are very similar, we’re also very different. For example? I’m not crazy like she is. My mom is INSANE. And now I’ll explain to all of you just how nuts she really is.

Socks on the floor turn my mother into a raging lunatic.
It’s true. The only thing that upsets my mother more than socks on the floor are towels in a closet. If you ever want to see my mother turn beat red and start screaming a string of obscenities that would make a sailor blush, leave your socks on the floor for a few days. She screams and shouts and hollers and makes you fear for your very life. Honestly, I thought I was going to die a time or two. She’s scary.

She likes my friends more than me.
How messed up is that?! My mother has a history of preferring my friends over me. Recently she’s been siding with a certain friend named Justin. Clearly this is proof that my mother is insane because everyone knows I’m infinitely cooler than Justin and much prettier too. Past preferences included my friends Lorne, Beth and Liz. I maintain I’m cooler than all of them.

She wanted to name me Dagmar.
Isn’t that reason enough for the State to take me away? It should’ve been. Let’s all take a moment to thank my grandfather for stepping in and stopping her. Instead she named me Katrina which would prove to be just as annoying later in life. My mother shouldn’t be allowed to name things. Ever. And what the hell kind of person wants to name their daughter Dagmar? That’s the postal worker on Sims! She’s evil and insane, that mother of mine.

She painted our house purple.
It’s true. Until recently we had a purple house. Totally my mother’s idea. She’ll tell you that it wasn’t purple it was ‘Autumn Dusk’. Sorry, Ma. Purple is purple. And it really clashed with the three foot tall orange Dala horse she hand painted on the garage door. No, she’s not color blind. She’s just INSANE.

Her wardrobe. Period.
Last year we cleaned out on of her closets. It wasn’t pretty. I had to fight with her over several garments. Also? She still rocks shoulder pads. To be fair, the wardrobe is improving, but sometimes she still wears things that make me cringe.

She can go from happy to CRAZY!INSANE!RAGEY! in a matter of 10 seconds.
It’s true. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve also caused it on several occasions, but that’s not the point. The woman is a ticking time bomb of rage. It’s best to stay ten feet back from her at all times.

In all honesty, I love my mother. I love that she puts up with my shit. I love that she doesn’t bitch (too much) when I tease her and I love that at 59 years old, she’s trying to develop a sense of humor. She doesn’t have one, but she’s working really hard at it.

So, Ma? I love you. Thanks for having me. And keeping me. And not killing me when I was a brat. And giving me rides sometimes. Oh and most of all? Thanks for not calling to yell at me after I post this for all of the internet to see. You’re the best.

It's time to set things straight.

It occurred to me last night after receiving some very surprising news that I no longer have a safe place to vent. That realization was confirmed this morning and I find myself wondering why we aren't allowed to air our own frustrations these days. Have you ever sat down to write something and worried about that one person who wasn't going to agree with you? Does it ever feel like speaking your mind isn't worth the judgment you're going to get from others? Why is that? Why am I censoring myself to please others?

I started a journal (way back in 2001 on LiveJournal) to create a place to record my thoughts and feelings. I wanted a place safe when I could write about whatever I wanted and whatever I felt. It was meant to be a place to write my happy moments as well as my angry thoughts. But now that I've come over to Blogger I find myself picking and choosing what I write. It's no longer an outlet for my own thoughts, but a way to impress others with my writing.

Yeah. Sorry, but that's not who I am and that stops right now.

Sometimes I think the world is stupid. I think people are stupid and I think my life sucks. And on those days I'm going to write about my frustration and anger and that's okay. It's more than okay. Because once I write about it all and get it out I feel better. And, yes, this blog is all about me. I don't want to feel judged because I've had a rough few days. And I don't want to present my life as this sunny place filled with joy because that isn't real.

For the love of Oz, talk about the hard times. Share those with the world because if you don't allow people to see the bad they are never going to know you or understand you. I know I'm not an overly negative person. I laugh with my friends. I joke. Hell, I'm always joking with my friends. So if someone comes along and sees that I wrote about how much I dislike the train or my job or a certain person in my life and labels me as an unhappy person.. well good for them. I'm not here to please people.

I'm just here to be me.

Good Days

Good days are 12 hours with your best friend.

Getting lost in Walmart, Having lunch, sitting around and talking to people, teasing, laughing...

Watching the geese with her beautiful baby girl while she shops.
Going to the drive in, daring mother nature to rain.
Popcorn, onion rings, candy, pillows, blankets, bananas, bad parking, blonde moments, feeling old and young at the same time.
Watching the sunset while anxiously waiting for the movie to start.
And remembering that no matter the ups and downs your friendship might have...
You can always come home to your best friend.
(And her kid)

Put on a happy face

I am not what you would call cheerful. I'm known for my swearing, ranting and general dislike of all who cross my path. And then people who really get to know me point out that I'm not as mean and horrible as I appear. Still, I know that I could stand to be a lot more positive in my life. I know that I should smile more and enjoy the days because we never know how many of them we have left.

But this job makes that so damn difficult.

When you're surrounded by negativity and annoyance it is really hard to be happy. When I spend almost all of my day just trying to get back home to where my happiness is, I can't seem to find any reason to smile. I soak up the negativity of others around me. And I hate that.

People accuse me of always being cranky. I'm not. I was in a good mood today. But then one by one people start being rude to me, intruding on my call when I was speaking to a client, snapping at me when I very politely asked them not to intrude on my phones calls, being loud and annoying in my lobby and just generally being miserable. And as all of those things started to happen I found it impossible to keep smiling.

It's so much easier being annoyed and bitter.

Then I reminded myself that I can go outside and have a lovely lunch. I can go get one of my favorite snacks and indulge in the pure deliciousness that is Berry Chill. I can sit with my friends in the lunch room and laugh for awhile. It is possible to find moments of happiness throughout the day.

Maybe I'll make a big sign to put on my desk. "No Negativity Allowed." Think it'll work?

Stepping Out

I like being comfortable. I've lived in the same area all my life with the exception of a single year spent in Evansville. I've had some of my closest friends since high school and some before that. And while I do change my hair constantly, I keep most things the same. Because stepping out of my comfort zone puts me at risk to fail or get hurt. And I really dislike failing. A lot. I also dislike being wrong. Why feel uncomfortable and awkward in a new situation when I can feel in control in an old one?

But, there are things I want in life. I want a new job. I'd like more friends. I want to become more social and expand my life to something more. And in order to do that I need to step out of my comfort zone.

It started small. I went to a tweetup in March. I really didn't talk to many people that I didn't know, but it was a step forward. Then in April I went to another. I met new people. I laughed. I had a great time. And finally I participated in the March of Dimes this weekend. I'll be honest. That was an intimidating experience. I only knew one person there. The rest I've seen online and tweeted with, but I didn't really know them. In the end, I'm so glad I went. Because nothing bad happened. I had a great time. I worried the driver of a Pace car. I met people who were just as sweet and funny as I had thought they'd be.

Putting myself out there is scary. I worry about people not liking me. I worry about not fitting in. But if I never try to branch out I'm never going to move in life. And the last month or so has shown me that I will meet great people and I will have a good time if I just try.

waiting for my real life to begin

Any minute now my ship is coming in
I keep checking the horizon
And I'll stand on the bow
And feel the waves come crashing
Come crashing down, down, down on me

According to Chicago time I'm at a perfectly normal time in my life. I'm 27 and married. I don't have children. I don't own my home and I have a stepping stone job.

According to Indiana time I'm way behind on the kids, home and dream job.

I'm having a lot of trouble trying to balance the different standards in my life. When I'm at work and around my city friends I feel confident and happy. We all complain together about crappy apartments or crappy jobs. We don't think twice about someone not having children before they are 30. It seems normal and nature to be at this state in our lives.

And you said,"Be still, my love
Open up your heart
Let the light shine in"
Don't you understand?
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin.

But then I go home. I go back to the land of corn and sometime during my train ride I lose valuable time in my life. The biological clock starts ticking faster the further east I travel. The fact that I'm not a mom and still in a crap job becomes something I can't ignore. It's as though Indiana pressures me to move my life faster and get to where I want to be right this second.

When I awoke today suddenly nothing happened
But in my dreams I slew the dragon
And down this beaten path
And up this cobbled lane
I'm walking in my own footsteps once again

It's frustrating, of course. I want to have children. I want to have a nice house. I don't want to be embarrassed about where I live (which I am) or what I do for a living (which I totally am). I want to have accomplished everything that my friends have done. I want to be impressive. But then I see people who have everything I want so badly and I envy them. I envy them for obtaining it all so effortlessly. And sure I know it took them a lot of hard work, but I can't see that. All I can see is the end result and how my life pales in comparison to theirs.

I know that my life won't always be this way. I know I'm still young. Hell, my great-grandmother lived to be 104 and I'm only 27. I know that just because people I went to school with or girls who are younger than I are having families doesn't mean I've failed in life. I know that having things doesn't equal happiness.

But I wish I could remember that all the time. I wish I wasn't always waiting for the future. I feel as though I miss what happens right now.

On a clear day
I can see, see for a long way

Imagine me and you, I do.

Five years ago, I became a wife. Ish. Legality aside, I've been married since April 16, 2005.

I've struggled with being a wife. I will be the first person to tell you that marriage is not easy. Marriage is work and if you're not dedicated to your spouse and your commitment, it's going to fail miserably. Because it's not just about being in love and making a life together. No. It is so much much more than that.

When you're married to someone you have to share yourself. And that right there is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Those of you who really know me know that I'm not big on sharing. I like my emotions locked up, not discussed and ignored. Feelings aren't something I'm good at discussing. I can handle anger. I can do laughter. But vulnerability and sorrow and that stuff? No thanks, let's move on, etc etc. But I expect other people to be completely open and honest with me. Yes I am aware of the hypocrisy. Very aware of it.

Luckily for me, I have a husband who embraces my flaws. He laughs when I insist I hate being affectionate and then ask him why he isn't cuddling me on the sofa. He just shakes his head when I tell him I'm not upset about something only to lock myself in my bedroom and sulk. For all of my faults (and there are a LOT) he accepts and loves me. For that I'm truly lucky.

I know our life isn't always going to be perfect. And even though I tend to measure my life against other peoples', I know that we're on our own path and one day we'll reach all the places we want to see. But for now, I'm going to be happy with having a husband who cooks better than I do. I'm going to love that my husband is the size of a freaking tree. I'm going to laugh when he falls asleep during every single movie we attempt to watch together. And I'm going to thank God every day for giving me such a kind, gentle and loving giant of a man.

Did I mention he cleans? Really, it's the main reason I keep him around. The rest is just gravy.

Diet Coke and Pizza Please

There is no way to write this without sounding full of myself. And since I am full of myself there really isn't any point in trying to pretend otherwise. I'm awesome. I am. Sure I have my faults, but I'm choosing to ignore those today. Today I'm embracing myself exactly how I am. I'm not going to use the word "if" or "when" or "maybe". I am simply going to love myself for what I am in this moment.

I'm a big girl. I have hips so epic that I use them to be remembered. And you know what? I love how I look. I love how I feel. I'm happy with who I am.

This might go away tomorrow, but for today I'm confident and feel good and I'm going to hold onto that as hard as I can. There are some days when we let our faults consume us and rule us. But not today.

Today I am going to list everything I love about myself. I'm going to play a song over and over again. I'm going to encourage everyone else to be happy about themselves.

Because I am beautiful. I am funny and intelligent. I am compassionate and outgoing. I am dedicated and loving and friendly. I'm interesting and spiritual and a good wife. I'm a great friend and a kick ass babysitting. And, to quote the best movie of all time, "He worked in profanity the way other artists might work in oils or clay. It was his true medium; a master."

So, please, share something you love about yourself. Or 100 things you love about yourself. All of your insecurities and fears and faults.. ignore them. They'll still be there tomorrow.

The Doctor

No, not that one. This Doctor is better.

Once, way back in the times of John Simatovich Elementary, there was a girl sitting on a bench during recess reading a book. I remember her vividly. I remember her in that moment even though I know I met her before then. But that was the moment I remember meeting Beth Ann.

Today a box arrived from Michigan. For no reason at all, she set me a sweet little care package. Various flavors of Kit Kats (which I've already promised to Erin), an Anne Rice book (which Greg already claimed) and an Entertainment Book. Why? Because she's Beth Ann.



And that little box made me think. It made me think about the hours we spent driving back and forth from Wheeler to Indianapolis for FHA State conferences. It reminded me of our horrible taste in boys one summer. I remembered sneaking out of class and hiding in the home ec room with our favorite teacher. It reminds me of learning about death and holding my friend through her tears. Driving down to help her pack up an apartment after she graduated medical school. I remember laughing until we cried so many times that a visit with Beth doesn't seem complete without one.



Just one little box. One box that reminded me of how blessed I am to know her. She probably won't see this. My geeky doctor friend and the internet don't get along. But it was good for me to remember how much I love her and how lucky I am to have her.

Dr. Beth amazes me. There is no way I could ever write about everything we've been through, but I'm glad she remembers enough to send me kit kats and (real) vampire books.

Now kids, listen to your mother.

Sometimes we assume that only the "professionals" can educate us. People like my mother, for example. She makes her living by helping people correct their behavior and refocus their energy to yield success. (Look, Ma, I said that without sounding like a smart ass.) And while I will begrudgingly agree that she has valid points, I maintain that everything we need to know about work and business can be boiled down to a few things she taught me as a child. Meaning her degrees are useless and she should've just kept yelling at everyone like she did to me when I was a snot nosed brat. I kid, Ma. I kid. Mostly.

Believe me, I'm the first person to ignore any advice my mother gives me. And I'm the first person to tease her at length about what she does for a living. So, consider this a rare and unlikely occurrence. I'm going to talk about how my mother is right.

By the way, if you just head a loud thud it was my mother falling out of her chair. Someone should probably check on her to make sure she's still breathing.

Is she still alive? Breathing? Heart still beating? Okay, good. Let's continue on with discussing how my mother is right and occasionally people should listen to her.

1. When you are inside you must use your inside voice.

I firmly believe that the majority of the world has forgotten this simple rule. Especially when it comes to being in an office. Park rangers are an exception and I'm sure there are a few others, but most people work in a building. In case you're confused, buildings are inside places. That means it is not appropriate to walk into the office and start talking at the top of your lungs. Especially around my desk. Please, lower your voices and remember that there are other people around you.

2. Do not touch things that don't belong to you.

Apparently no one else learned this rule as a child. Maybe my mother was extra strict. Or maybe people now view offices as communes and believe everything is shared. This includes pens, staplers, food, chairs and computers. Listen. Back off. I don't bring things to work for you to play with. The food in the fridge isn't an option in case you don't like your lunch. Would you go to your neighbors and eat their supper because you didn't like what you cooked? No.

3. When you go to church/work/school it is important to look your best.

I know some people might not agree with me on this one, but I firmly believe it. I don't expect people to buy designer labels and spend three hours in the morning primping. However, I do expect people to take some level of pride in their appearance. Shower, for example. Brush your hair. And do not walk around my office in the same clothing you would wear to a club. Have some respect for your place of employment. Have some dignity for that matter. And pull your shirt down/pants up because no body wants to see that!

4. Be nice to others.

Now this one is a big one. And also the hardest for the average employee to follow. I'm astounded that people question the amount of turnover they have when they are rude, dismissive and disrespectful to their employees. Can we take a moment to saying DUH? If you want someone to help you with something then be nice to them. If you want me to continue to do the work that you should be doing in the first place then try treating me like a person rather than Drone no. 7. And that goes for your co-workers as well. We are all in a tight space together and it's very likely that you work with people that you would not spend time out in the real world. Well too bad. Be nice to them. It's just that simple.

I spend five days a week watching things from my lobby. I see every part of this office work together, argue, complain, etc. And if everyone would just take my mother's advice which is the SAME ADVICE your mother probably gave you when you were growing up. Not that I normally condone listening to my mother, but in this instance I think we'd all be better off.

I've got Sunshine

Today was beautiful.

Sunny.

Warm.

Peaceful.

I took a walk from my office down to the river. I sat. I listened to music. I chatted with a few friends. I stood and watched the boats go by.

By the end of the hour my arms were pink, I was a bit sweaty and I didn't want to go back to work.

Still, I can't imagine a better way to spend my lunch hour. It was perfect.

It's not a bad addiction.

I love books. There. I said it. Not that it's a big surprise to, uh, anyone. Especially not my husband. He is well aware of my desire to collect books. And while he rolls his eyes at me and grumbles about having books stacked everywhere, (no, really. I have four in my kitchen because I read them while I cook) I know he would rather me spend our hard (kinda) earned money on books that shoes and purses and makeup. Oh wait.

Back to the point. My mother is the enabler behind my problem. From a young age she pushed books in my face and made me read them. Forced, really. And I suffered. How I suffered. It is because of her insistence that I read that so many imaginary friends popped up in my head. Who needed to go outside and play when I could open up a book and be taken to someplace better than Sunshine Drive. And, okay, it wasn't hard to find a place better than Sunshine Drive, but that's not the point.

All through school I was a bookworm. People doubted how many books I read. They argued that it wasn't possible for one person to spend that much time reading. I pointed out that I didn't watch much television and I rarely played video games. These concepts were foreign to some of my friends. Poor kids. My love for reading never faded, though my available time certainly did. Still, there is nothing to this day that I love more than a new book. The smell of it. The weight of it in my hands. Not knowing how it is going to end or what characters I'm going to fall in love with.

But, sadly, I've noticed that as people grow older, they read less. I know so many people who say that haven't read a book since they were in school. Some of those people mean high school. How is that possible? How is it possible to go ten years without reading a book? I can't even go ten days. Are we all so addicted to the television/internet/texting that we can't take twenty minutes a day to read a bit of a book? I've heard people say that books are interesting. How can they not be? Where do people think so many movies come from? And have we all stopped using our imagination to the point that we can't picture far away lands and magical creatures in our minds?

Then today I went to a book signing for Christopher Moore. If you don't know who he is, I strongly suggest you read him. Well, if you're not easily offended. Because he is offensive. He's also hysterical, witty, intelligent and one of my favorite authors. There were so many people there to listen to him and have the chance to meet him. And seeing that gave me a little bit of hope.

Please. Pick up a book. I don't care if it's a sparkly vampire novel (okay, I lied. I do. Please don't read those) or a piece of classic literature. But read. Read to your kids. Share books with your friends. Just don't let your imagination die because you're too busy or too bored to read.

Godliness

I don't talk about religion very often. Well. I do. Just not in a public forum like this because I know it's a very touchy subject for a lot of people. But this weekend, I actually went to church. I adore my church. It is the only church I will ever feel at home at. My mother and I started attending about ten years ago after the death of my grandfather. When needed a home and we found a Swedish church only fifteen minutes from our house. It was meant to be.

But I'm getting off track.

I, sometimes, have trouble reconciling my brain with my faith. I have a hard time accepting what I believe when it contradicts with what I know. And I'm sure I'm not the only person who has experienced this. And so instead of going to church every week and trying my best to understand how my faith and intelligence can co-exist, I avoid it all together.

But then, this week, it occurred to me. I don't go to church to try to understand what the church believes. I don't attend services every week to find answers. If I had all of the answers in the world, what would there be to live for? Life is one long lesson. We make mistakes and we have questions. We're never going to figure it all out. And that is what I should have understood about church years ago. I don't walk into that building each week to be provided with the answer. There is no "42" in the Bible. I go to church to be a part of a group of people who all want to live the best lives they can and be good people.

And, luckily for me, I've met some pretty amazing people through church. People who treat me like family and people who feel comfortable enough with me to ask me to be in the bell choir even though they know I'm going to say no. People who I've known since I was 16 and have yet to grow up around. And people who send me cards at Christmas and my birthday, just because we share a pew.

I love that while looking for an answer, I found something bigger.

Faults

We all have faults. One of my biggest faults is being a snob. I judge people. I know I'm not supposed to and I know it's wrong, but I do it all the time. I look down on neighbors, co-workers and strangers on the train. I mock people in my head all the time.

But it's not something I want to continue to do. I don't actually want to be a bitter, cynical and judgmental bitch. I'm not saying I want to be sweet, loving and happy as a new puppy either. Let's try for a happy medium between sunshine and evil, okay?

So why am I writing about this? If I don't like this part of me, why am I sitting here and explaining it all to you. I know that people might look at this blog and judge me in return for being a snob. Especially considering I haven't accomplished much with my life. I haven't done all of the things I expect out of other people. So what gives me the right to think I'm better than anyone?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

But that's exactly why I'm writing this. I need to remind myself that I don't have the right to look down my nose at anyone. I don't have the right to judge anyone. I don't have the right to believe myself to be better than the person sitting across the aisle from me.

We all have faults. Maybe admitting them to the world will give me a reason to really work at fixing mine.

My obsession with Accessories.

This is going to come as a huge surprise to, uh, none of you.

I like purses. Shoes too, of course, but today we're going to focus on purses.

I adore them. I have an every growing collection of bags in my closet and I can't get enough of them. The saddest moment in my life was when my dog ate my Betsey Johnson bag. I cried. (Don't judge me, it was an awesome bag.)

But as much as I love bags, I very rarely allow myself to buy anything that's not 100% functional. I need to hold of a lot of crap in my bags. Like, a lot. On any given day I have my camera, phone, wallet, makeup bag (which really only carries powder and lipglosses because I cannot possibly bring all my makeup with me), a book, my calender, my glasses and so on.

So I always end up buying bags like this.

It's not a bad bag. In fact, I love it. It was less than ten bucks, holds everything I need it to hold and doesn't show the grit and grime of commuting .

And while I really do appreciate having a nice, sturdy and dependable bag that holds everything under the sun... sometimes I just want something pretty. Pretty and dainty and girly.

That is why I'm writing this post, after all. Because a very amazing woman makes very amazing bags and it is my goal to own one. In celebration of launching her blog for her etsy shop, Julie of Julie Vision Designs is offering a custom clutch giveaway.

Her bags are amazing. I've been drooling over this one for ages. I'm also planning on having her create a bag (or two) from the dress I wore in my mother's wedding. I'm sure as hell not going to fit into that dress again and lacy beaded dresses from the 90's should have a second life.

In conclusion, I'm begging Julie to ignore the rules of picking at random. Remember how much fun we had discussing dysfunctional families over coffee? Don't you want to give me my very own pretty bag to have and to hold and love when my family is too insane to love me back?!

Geekery Brings Love.

This weekend I was blessed to meet a friend of mine named Nicole. Whenever I remember I've only "known" her for a few months I feel as though I'm counting the days wrong. But, no, I've really only been talking to her for a few months.

After a weekend together though... I'm pretty sure I'm going to insist on knowing her for the rest of my life.


There was so much talk of geekery and laughing at silly moments. We mocked sculptures and found subtext is everything we came across.

Wandering around my city with someone who could make me laugh was amazing. Even when we stalked real life people or tried to understand some really bad art.













There was eating ice cream outside in the cold, wandering around shops and walking the streets of Chicago. Coffee with new friends, a pub with much laughing and a train ride home in which we both SOMEHOW managed to stay awake. We played with our food, spent far too much money on candy and saw a movie. We even listened to David Schwimmer tell us everything we never cared to know about Chicago.

Turns out, Nicole is scared of heights. Maybe that is why she got the free ticket to the top of the Hancock and I paid full price. (So much fail.)

I'm so blessed to have awesome friends. I've met so many of them through the internet and really through the Harry Potter community. Some people out there might find it geeky, but it's really a blessing. Without that community online I wouldn't have met Nicole or a dozen other amazing people who make up my life and support system.

And even if they are far away, sometimes it just takes a plane (and blown tired, shuttle and attempted kidnapping) to get some quality time with them.

Friendship

My friendships have always been a big part of my life. I'm not terribly close with my family and so my friends have always filled that void in my life. The biggest and most important events in my life have been made better because of my friends. Sometimes I lose faith that there is such a thing as a true, forever and lifelong friendship. At lot of the people in my life have come and gone and come and gone over the years. There are a few exceptions and I try my best to believe that they will always be in my life, but how can I be sure? How can I be certain that the people I love and cherish are always going to be there for me?

The answer is... I can't.

I have no way of knowing who is going to be in my life tomorrow. Someone I love today could move away and stop calling. (Oh, wait, that happened.) Someone I've known since before I had memories could push me away and hurt me down to my core. (Right, that happened last night.) And no matter how much I try to fight it, I can't stop people from choosing to walk away from me. I can't stop my own life from changing and needing to change the people that are a part of it.

I hate it, but maybe there are no lasting, lifelong friendships. After all, most marriages don't last so why would friendships? Especially in a world where people treat friendships as disposable, temporary relationships. It hurts. I will admit that. It breaks my heart when I lose contact with people and I lose that spark we once shared. There are so many people in my memories. I can still see their smiles and hear their laughter, but they aren't a part of my life any longer. Odds are they wouldn't speak to me if we passed on the street.

Of course... your friendship was supposed to be different, wasn't it? You and I were always supposed to be there for each other. I guess I was wrong about that.

Ch-ch-ch-changes.

My dear, dear friend Myriam told me this weekend that I was addicted to change. For some reason, that stuck with me. I thought about it and then this morning I had a bit of an epiphany. I do constantly change my hair color, length and have a bad habit of wanting different clothes and accessories as much as possible. I do want to change my outward appearance all of the time. But that's only because my life hasn't changed much in a very long time.

I have been working at the same job for five years. I don't enjoy what I do. I have no passion for it. And, really, who would? I answer phones for a living. Even if you enjoy spending all your time on the phone, you would grow to hate this job. Instead of living out my own dreams, I watch people live their success. And then get their coffee.

It didn't start out this way and I doubt very many people set out to work a dead end job. But there are bills to be paid and dreams and desires are often put on hold to keep a roof over your head. All of the things I want to change seem so unattainable. I find myself doubting I will ever get to have a career. I can't imagine myself traveling and doing all of the things I know I want to do. Each time I take a step towards making changes in my life, something seems to come up. Anymore I'm not sure if life really is out to get me or I can't distinguish my excuses from the slight God clearly has against me. (I suspect it's the former, because I don't actually think God has a slight against me. Dramatics simply make better blogging.)

And once again I will try to change my life to make myself happier. Maybe it will all work this time. Or maybe the sky will fall and I will find myself behind this desk, answering this phone and plotting out my next hair color to feel as though I have some control over my life.

Weekends

The week is never good for me. This week was especially bad. Long commutes and annoying work issues. Nothing good happened in the slightest. And all I was looking forward to was a weekend with Greg. I wanted to spend two whole days with him, recharging my batteries and allowing my husband to make me laugh.

Mission accomplished.

We didn't do anything adventurous. Breakfast out, shopping for home stuff and books and watching TV. We visited some family and drove around far too much. But it was perfect. It was exactly what I needed. Somehow, without ever asking, my husband simply knows what I need to make me feel better. And that (among other, more cuddly reasons) is why I married him. Plus he has great teeth. My teeth are only pretty thanks to four years of very painful metal shoved into my mouth. Good teeth were a must when selected the future father of my future children. (Yes, I thought about these things when I was 18. I'm a planner.)

I know I complain about him sometimes. I know that he annoys me every so often. But, for better or worse, he's a good guy and I'm damn lucky to have him.

True Love

Even though this is coming a day late, I feel it's very important to wish my parents a happy anniversary. See, everything I know about love and happiness comes from them. Their marriage has been the best example of what true love is and how to make a marriage last.

Nineteen years (and one day) ago, my mom married my dad. Some people know their dad from the day they are born. My dad came to me when I was seven years old. And even though my mom's wedding day should've been the happiness day in her life, it was also the happiest of mine. It was the day I finally got a dad.

My parents have taught me a lot about life. Never change your personality for someone else. Always, always fold the chip bag correctly or the world is likely to end. Clutter is only okay if you're the one in charge. Laughter is the key to eternal happiness. Nothing is better than pancakes on a Saturday morning. Your family doesn't consist of the people you're related to, just the people you love.

I could go on and on about how awesome my parents are. There aren't people in the world I admire and respect more than the pair of them. I wanted to pick out one memory that stands out above all the others, but I can't. I know that my parents have found real, lasting and forever love with each other. Maybe they took longer to find it than some people. Maybe they had to go through the bad experiences to truly appreciate what they have together. Maybe it's true that opposites truly do attract. All I know is that my parents are soul mates and because of them I have always believed in true love.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. I love you both very, very much.

An Introduction

If you asked my mother she would be the first to tell you that I am just like my father.

My husband reminds me on a daily basis that I am just like my mother.

Basically what that boils down to is I happen to be one of the coolest fucking people I know. I'd have to be given the amazing set of parents I have. Modesty runs rampant in our family. My father will tell you exactly how perfect he is and my mother is quick to point out her strengths as well. Is it any wonder I turned out with an ego the size of Alaska? I suppose it's a good thing I have the awesome personality to support my opinion of myself.

But, you might be wondering who I am or why you should read my blog. I am a 26 year old woman. I am married, work a crappy desk job which I've had for five years (sob), occasionally remember to go to church though am very fond of my religion, avid reader, lover of music, ranter extraordinaire, internet addict and outspoken pain in the ass. My weakness and faults completely outweigh my strengths, but I like being flawed.

I considered given this blog a theme, but my life isn't themed so why should my blog be? Instead I'm going to do my best to make it a part of my daily life. I love my life. I love the people in it (most of the time), the things I do (besides commuting) and the lessons I learn (except when I'm wrong). I want to share all of that with my friends (and mom. Hi, Mom.) so that maybe they can understand a bit more about how I really live.

To start... I want to share a story. It's nothing amazing, but it's so incredibly me that it seems perfect. Last night after spending hours talking to my best friend, Myriam, I dragged myself off to bed. My husband, Greg, was already sound asleep and snoring as he does every. single. night. Some people insist that I'll miss his snoring when/if it's no longer there and I can assure you I won't. As I turned over to cuddle the massive bear that is my husband, I discovered that once again he had drooled on his pillow. You know it's true love when you can ignore the snoring and the drooling. I chastised him as I often do and he insisted he hadn't been the one who drooled all over my new sheets. No, it wasn't Greg.

It was ninjas. Ninjas came into our bedroom, drooled on the pillow and placed it under my husband's head.

He was half asleep and nothing he said made a lick of sense, but it put a smile on my face as I fell asleep. Silly moments like that are what make up my life. And for that I'm incredibly lucky.