I Believe In

I believe in buying myself fresh flowers for no reason other than I want something beautiful to brighten my space. I believe in brightly colored nail polish in the spring and summer, sometimes with a top coat that has sparkles in it, just for fun. I believe in rolling the windows down, turning the radio up, and letting the wind roll through my car taking away my cares and frustrations, just feeling the sun shining through the windshield. I believe in sipping on chocolate raspberry chai while sitting across the table from my best friend, listening as she regales me with tales from her 8th grade students, laughing as we remember a fun day and make plans for the not so distant future. I believe in saying I'm sorry when I know I'm wrong, letting go instead of holding on, and forgiving even when I think I can't. I believe that people are generally good; that they will choose to help others when they can and go out of their way to make life a little easier for someone else.

I believe in naps on rainy days and occasionally eating ice cream for dinner. I believe in laughing--especially the kind that makes my sides hurt, causes tears to roll down my checks, and leaves me gasping for breath. I believe in loudly singing along with song even if I don't know the correct words. I believe in saying I love you, often, and meaning it with every fiber of my being. I believe in crying when I need to, but then getting up and becoming even stronger than I was before. I believe in keeping secrets, wishing on stars, and writing letters to far away friends.

I believe in spending time in nature, whether that be lying on my back in the lush grass watching clouds pass overheard or talking a long walk with fall leaves crunching under foot. I believe in holding hands and bear hugs. I believe in sitting alone, watching as the sun sinks behind the hills, and thinking about all the glorious unknowns the future holds. I believe in dancing under the stars with friends to the sounds of a battery powered radio around a crackling bonfire. I believe in drinking a cold beer on the deck surrounded by my favorite people, watching the river lazily pass by on a warm summer evening. I believe in reading a book while sitting in the shade of a large tree full of green leaves that flutter in the breeze.

Above all, I believe in myself. That I know what is best for me. That I am stronger and much more capable than I give myself credit for. That I have the power to make my life anything I want it to be.

What do you believe in?

Bulleted

This is a short week for me with Easter Break right around the corner, which basically means that I have a short attention span, so bullets seem entirely appropriate. Agreed? Ok good.

* Waiting is hard and its not something I'm good at. I'm currently in the middle of waiting. While I can't share what is I'm waiting for right now, I keeping my fingers crossed and trying to remain hopeful. If you could cross your fingers too, I will bake you cookies.

* I spent yesterday with my 13 year old cousin. Shes growing up, developing her own opinions, and we can have some real conversations now. She wanted to talk about health care and the president. We come from a fairly conservative family so she basically only hears that side of the argument. As you may or may not know, I am far from conservative, about as far as you can get. While I did give her my thoughts, I also stressed the importance of coming to her own conclusions. Its scary new territory for me, being the one my younger cousins look to for thoughts and ideas.

* I did nothing productive yesterday. It was cold, rainy, and I was feeling under the weather. I laid in bed all day, cuddled with the dog, and watched Lifetime Movie Network. ALL. DAMN. DAY. I haven't done that in a very long time and I loved every second of it. I also might have taken a nap. Or two.

So tell me, what did you do this weekend? Do you have a short week? Do you find it hard to concentrate during short weeks like I do?

Former Friends

If you’ve read this blog for a great length of time, you know that over a year ago my life long best friend and I went our separate ways for reasons that I still don’t know, reasons that I probably never will know. I struggled for a long time after that, I needed several months to get to a place where I was just starting to accept that she wasn’t the first person I called when I had great news I needed to share or when I needed someone to help me up when I tripped over something in life. There aren’t many people in my life that I put my full trust in, that I confide my deepest secrets too, but she was one of them. The two of us have literally known each other our entire lives, friends before we even knew what friends were. Aside from a few brief, sporadic exchanges the two of us haven’t talked at great lengths in a very long time. I’ve desperately missed her, but my pride and stubbornness have gotten in the way of me telling her on numerous occasions. For some reason, I just couldn’t bring myself to say those words to her. What if she didn’t miss me? What if she didn’t care? What if? What if? What if?

A little over a week ago I received a facebook message from her. I was shocked, because even though we had both attended a family party where we had seen each other, things were still a bit frosty between the two of us. We shared a few memories, but the words to actually engage with each other just weren’t there. Her note was short, a piece of jewelry had triggered a memory of how much fun we used to have and she felt compelled to tell me. In her note she also said those words that I couldn’t bring myself to say, that she missed me.

I immediately wrote her back, starting off a flurry of messages filling the other on everything that was happening in our lives, up coming plans and before I knew it we had a concrete place and time to meet for dinner. Just the two of us, away from the family and other friends that for the past several month we’ve been hiding behind.

On Monday night, I found myself sitting across a table from her, a nervous knot in my stomach wondering how we would ever fill the uncomfortable silence that has separated us for so long. While I had visions of the two of us hugging and talking as if nothing had ever happened, realistically I knew that was very unlikely. We met each other with a hug and settled in. The conversation was horribly awkward, mainly revolving around the menu and the weather as if we were strangers meeting for the first time, neither of us really knowing where to take the conversation.

Eventually the conversation became a little easier and we opened up more telling the other in more detail what we’ve been doing, future plans, and even reminisced some. The nervous knot in my stomach disappeared and I relaxed. At times the conversation flowed freely but other times there was an uncomfortable silence. There were things I wanted to tell her but didn’t, I know she felt the same way. We didn’t talk about why we stopped talked or place blame on the other for our separation because really, none of that matters. After a few hours, we ran out of things to say and with little fanfare went our separate ways again.

Seeing her was really good, hearing about the life she’s carving out for herself, how she’s finding her happiness, and enjoying what she’s doing brought me a sense of peace. I’m happy for her. I hope she feels the same. Our meeting also made it clear that while we used to be the first person the other would call in times of happiness or distress, we weren’t that person for each other any more and that’s ok. It feels right, in this moment in time.

I thought facing that realization would make me sad, but its quite the opposite. We’ve both moved on and we’re both doing really well. We both miss the other, cherishing and honoring those memories we have but acknowledging that our futures are headed in different directions. Even though that closeness is gone and there is still some unknown separating us, I do think that the two of us can find a way to be a small part of the other’s life again, even if its just in random, slightly awkward dinners and facebook messages.

Nature's Peace

Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves. ~John Muir

In my world, a lot can be cured with an afternoon spent laying on my back in the grass watching as clouds of various shapes pass by overhead. The other day was the perfect opportunity to take the dog to one of my favorite spots in a local park to do just that. I felt nature's energy flowing into me, restoring a sense of balance and calm simply by turning my face to the sun soaking in the warm rays and feeling the wind blow by. (Obviously, Sandy felt the same way.) Times like that reinvigorate me, let me get back to myself, fill up my depleted emotional well. After a long winter of being shut up in the house, it felt good to get back outside and just lay in the grass being enveloped by nature's peace.

Lasting Impressions 20

Today's Lasting Impressions post comes by way of Amber, Girl With The Red Hair who is a 20SB who always manages to write some of the best posts in my Reader. If you don't read her, you most definitely should.

When Mandy asked me to do a guest blog for her Lasting Impressions series I was ridiculously excited because when I look back through my life, I marvel at all the amazing friendships I have formed and how they’ve affected my life.

The one friendship I continually find myself reflecting on and thinking about is the one I had with N, a girl I knew since I was five but only became really close with during my adolescence.

In Grade eight I started playing hockey and became unexplainably close with N, who played hockey also. I had known her since we were both five, but we’d never been friends by any means, I had always marveled at this girl. She was athletic, funny, pretty. The boys loved her and the girls wanted to be her. And then I got to be her best friend.

For two years we were inseparable. We would chat on the phone every night and spend the weekends at one another’s houses. We would stay up late talking about boys, hockey, hair, clothes and everything in between. We would see each other all day long at school and then spend 2-3 hours on the phone every night.

In Grade 11 we both went to high school and we went our separate ways, N, who’d always been a partier, went a bit off the deep end and ended up dropping out of school because she partied too much. We had a huge falling out halfway through our Grade 11 year and I’ve barely spoken to her since and only seen her once or twice. She’s since gotten married and had a child and last I’d heard she left her husband for a man almost twice her age.

I think of her from time-to-time and all the good times we shared for those two years. The other day I sent her a message on Facebook wishing her a Happy Birthday. She wrote me back a brief message saying her daughter was almost 3 and she hoped that me and Eric were doing well.

Yes, I think of her from time-to-time. Sometimes I think about the relationship we had; me trying so desperately to be like her, other times I remember the laughter, the sleepovers and the late nights on the phone and sometimes I feel pity for her and her current situation.

Despite everything that happened between us and our little to no contact, she’s someone who I’ll never forget. She’s one of the many people who have left an impression on my life that won’t go away, whether I want it to or not.

Just Glad To Be On The Ride

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This week has been reminiscent of being on a roller coaster. I've had my breath knocked out of me and my heart stopped when I learned some incredibly sad news involving a friend and her family. I've felt an enormous rush of adrenaline after a particularly promising phone call. I've learned that it is possible to have your heart break and soar simultaneously. I currently feel as if I'm suspended in air, waiting at that precise moment when the roller coaster crests the steepest incline, holding my breath unsure of what's next. Not knowing whether to grip the safety bar with both hands or to just let go, hold both hands above my head to just feel air rush past me. Truthfully, in this moment, in this time, I'm just glad to be on the ride.

Sometimes I...

Sometimes I think about the girl I used to be -- the one who rode her bike through the narrow streets not knowing what life was like outside the confines of her valley. The one who was perfectly content to stay out until the street lights came on running through neighbors yards chasing imaginary animals, knocking on friends doors, jumping over fences and off of stone walls.

Sometimes I recall the girl who dreamed of far off places but never gave much of thought of living any where else.

Sometimes I remember the young child who tagged along with her grandfather into his garden, never realizing that most people didn't have grandfathers who grew all their summer vegetables or had apple trees and huge family gatherings in the fall to make apple butter.


Sometimes I think about the teenager I used to be --who spent weekends in the country at bonfires with friends, who spent Friday nights at football games, and Sunday afternoons hanging around the local mall because "there was nothing else to do."

Sometimes I am reminded of the sixteen year and seventeen year old who couldn't wait to escape the confines of her small town leaving behind her family and friends to go  make a new life in some exciting far off city, to a place that had diversity, culture, and endless opportunities.

Sometimes I have a weekend where I spend Saturday with my mom -- running errands, going to a craft show, car shopping in the rain. A day where we pop into a local winery to purchase bottles of our favorite wines and then laugh at funny things over Mexican food.

Sometimes I spend hours with one of my younger cousins listening to her talk about life in middle school, as she laments about her mom doesn't understand her, and whatever else is happening in her thirteen year old life. We hit up the movie theater to take in a movie we both want to see and then after decide to split some appetizers at a local restaurant because we realize we forgot to eat dinner.

Sometimes I wonder when I realized that what I wanted wasn't to run off to the big city, leaving behind everyone I love. I wonder when I figured out that there were things to do in my small town I just had to seek them out and be creative, when I learned to appreciate my Valley for what it has instead of loathing it for what it doesn't have.

Sometimes I know that even though my small town isnt diverse or incredibly cultured, its home in every true sense of the word. I wouldn't trade time spent with my mom, hanging out with one of my cousins, or helping my grandpap for anything.

Sometimes I wonder when I became the woman who knows she's exactly where she is supposed to be and is completely at peace and happy with the life she's chosen to lead so far (but still wonders where life is going to take her).

Your turn fill in the blank, sometimes I _________________________________________.

Lasting Impressions 19

Lasting Impressions is a series about friendships. I've been really excited to bring this series back so if you would like to be involved, please either leave a comment or send me an email.

Today's Lasting Impressions post comes from the super sweet Melanie at Live, Laugh, Love. Her love for mission work in Guatemala is both inspiring and encouraging.

Friendships aren’t always an easy thing. In fact, they are hard. It’s a two way street and when one of the “friends” stops communicating, or caring, it’s get bumpy.

I’ve learned that it’s okay to end a friendship. One of my best friends through my college years is getting married this weekend. I was supposed to be standing beside her on the best day of her life. Instead, I will be five hours away and I am okay with that (not that I haven’t thought about crashing it). Thing after thing just proved to me that our friendship wasn’t supposed to last all of our lives (as we like to think).

Friendships can be wonderful, but they take work. You have to care about each other, love them, want to spend time with them, call them, and just be there.

I’m going to leave you with this quote that I heard on TV the other night. It sums up friendships:

“Some people are meant to stay in our lives forever, while some are meant to just make an appearance.”

What do you do to keep your friendships alive? What has caused your friendships to end?

Hoping For Spring

During this time of year, I struggle with my surroundings which greatly affects my mood. In summer the hills are covered with vibrant shades of green from the grass to the leaves, autumn brings its own splendor when the hills are ablaze with warm reds and golds as the leaves change. Under the coldness of winter when things are blanketed under snow the Valley I call home is stunningly beautiful. However, in this time of transition when February quietly slips into March it seems raw, gritty and barren.

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The mounds of snow have turned gray, in some cases black. Dark cinders and ashes cover the roadways. The fallow hills are visible in every direction, filled with stark brown trees whose outstretched branches appear to be raised to the heavens pleading for warmth and sunshine. The sky hides its true blue coloration behind heavy lingering clouds that for the most part block out the sunlight. The mighty river seems heavy and sluggish, baring the weight of northern towns’ leftovers, spilling over its banks threatening possible damage and destruction with each raindrop that falls into its murky abyss.

All of these combined make my Valley appear drab and dingy. The steel mills rest along the shores of the river like rusty skeletons, shells of their former selves no longer hidden by the usually blooming vegetation creeping along their outer walls that typically soften the rough edges. A constant visible reminder of better days that will likely never return. Even the people themselves seem worn, hard, and cold; their faces lined with worry over lack of jobs and money plaguing our area, or some other unknown personal stress they are carrying with them. The seemingly sterile landscape can’t hide their problems or worries when everything is so resolutely bare.

Occasionally I’ll spy a red or blue bird, their color decisively noticeable against the bleak background, or hear a chorus of birds singing in the early hours of morning and it gives me hope. That soon the clouds will dissipate allowing the sun to reach the ground. That lush grass will again grow, that various colored blooms and buds will find their way to the top of the soil, and that warmer air will melt away the last vestiges of a long gray winter season. The longer days give me hope that the people will release some of their tensions, the river will be swiftly moving within its own borders and that I’ll soon see the beauty in my little valley and my heart again.

Reconnecting

This past weekend was the sort that left me a bit breathless; one of those weekends that slipped by entirely too quickly. The weather warmed up to above freezing, hovering around the low 40's, allowing for the perfect opportunity to get out and about to reconnect with friends and family.

I spent several hours with various friends which warmed my soul. Some I hadn't seen for one reason or another for a few months. We chatted over the sounds of country music from the juke box, sipping beers, laughing and crying. I walked along the river with another friend in the chilly air of the morning, just as the fog was rising off the water, our coffee cups warming our hands. We discussed our some challenges plaguing our town, the kids we used to be, and the sort of things we want our adult selves to always remember. After our walk we popped in and out of a few antique shops before heading out to do some shopping. Not all the reconnecting with friends was done in person. Some I spoke to in great length via gchat. It was beyond fantastic to catch up with a few long distance friends.

After a three hour drive into the heartland of my state (six hours round trip, confined in a car with my grandmother, I was feeling a bit irritable) I reconnected with my extended family including a slew of cousins I only see a few times a year. We passed the time making making plans, teasing each other, and just enjoying having an excuse to get together (the actual reason we were all gathered was for a baby shower). There were pictures, stories, introductions of significant others, and lots of laughs. Time was fleeting as it always is when we get together and before I knew it I was on my way home again.

I'm keeping the reconnecting going this week, with a completely unexpected reconnection happening this morning and dinner with a childhood friend who has recently moved back to the area.

The past few days have reminded me how important it is to connect and reconnect with friends and family. To maintain those connections, to foster and nurture them. How do you reconnect with the people in your life?

Lasting Impressions 18

Lasting Impressions is a series about friendships. I've been really excited to bring this series back so if you would like to be involved, please either leave a comment or send me an email. If you've already indicated you'd like to participate, look for an email coming your way. The best part about this series is that it comes from you! 

Today's Lasting Impression post was written by Jen from Jen's World. Jen is one of those people who makes life better just by being in it. She is an amazing friend who always has time for a text messages, phone calls and emails. 

When I think of Lasting Impressions a lot of different ideas come to my head. I think of significant teachers or coaches i have had throughout the years. i think of friends who have long been gone for what ever reason but who left an indelible mark on my heart. I think of former co-workers who, at the time, i couldnt imagine not still being in touch with, but have realized that life has a crazy idea of where you are headed and sometimes it is best to just let it be. i thought about making a list of the ten people who have made a Lasting Impression on me either positive or not, because lets face it, we all have some not so positive lasting impressions of people, but every time i sat down to compose that i was drawn to a different aspect, or perspective... What if you have never met a person who has made a Lasting Impression in real life?

is that weird?

what would other people think?

In an age of immense communications and connectivity, we find ourselves looking in on other peoples lives, finding connections and reaching out to people we may have never known in our day to day existence had it not been for the internet. We start with simple comments on blogs that can lead to emails then text messages and phone calls. Soon that person becomes an integral part of your day to day life. You find yourself in certain situations thinking of them and how only they could appreciate the situation. Even though you have never been in the same room with them.

My good friend Mandy is just that person. I found her blog one day, i really cannot remember how, and saw an ohio state fan. I was born at ohio state university so i thought it would be cool to comment that i was a buckeye baby (any true ohio state fan would appreciate that statement). then there was a meme going around having different bloggers ask random questions of their commenters that mandy posted about. i told her i would love to have her question me and when i answered her questions i started out by saying that we have more in common then she realizes. Then it happened. Emails and constant comments and then phone calls.

When Mandy first "met" me, I was recently engaged and trying to navigate the whole "wedding planning process." a process which made me physically ill. and Mandy got that. I can remember talking to her briefly before a night class of mine, telling her that my fiance was going to quit his job and we have to marry sooner rather than later for insurance, and her responses were nothing but support. there were times were i was so worried about my decisions pertaining to my wedding and just calling her would give me a sense of calm, and that really? everything would be just fine. and she is always so great to add in the occasional "you are doing an amazing job" and i will not lie...that helps so much!

The planning was done, in a rather short time, the date set and the dress bought. And at that point beyond my mother and my sister, Mandy knew everything as well. I sent her pictures of my hair, the dress, the boat we were going to married on, and i got nothing but support from someone whom i had never met in real life. We had forged a friendship through our blogs, our emails, our phone calls. Such a strong friendship that i now find myself thinking about the friendships from high school and college and comparing them. Not in a bad way, just in a "holy cow my life is so different now" way. the thing that is most fascinating to me is that i have the same closeness with Mandy that i do with the closest friends from college. that just makes me happy.

so is it weird? not at all

what would other people think? i can finally say that i have reached a point in my life where i do not care what other people think.

Here is to Mandy, who has made an Lasting Impression on me! and here is to meeting someone i know so very well in real life!

From the Archives: Why I Write

I wrote this  piece a few years ago, so some of you may have read it. I've had a difficult time finding the right words about some events I want to share. Or maybe its that I'm not ready to share them yet. I am a firm believer in not forcing the story until its ready to be told. In the meantime, I needed a little reminder as to why I write...


“Writing is an exploration, you learn as you go.” ~ E.L. Doctorow

When I began this blog a few years ago, I never had any intention of actually blogging. Instead it was a vehicle by which I could keep up with my cousins who were in the process of adopting their first child. My blog sat in its own little corner of cyberspace, blank, empty, and cold. Then one day while I was in the midst of making a difficult decision about a friendship, I sat down to the computer and wrote. Upon hitting the publish button, I felt better, even knowing that no one would read it. Then I had some comments on what I had written. What? Someone wants to read what I wrote? Even when I think I have nothing to say, people still read and comment. I get excited when someone de-lurks to say hi. The past year or so, I’ve been diligent about blogging and the more you do it, the easier it becomes.

“Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those, who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic fear, which is inherent in a human condition” ~ Graham Greene

Writing has always been an outlet for me. I have stack upon stack of journals and diaries I have kept since my childhood. I like writing, even if what I write makes no sense to someone else. It’s a way for me to empty my brain, to get my thoughts outside of my head to better understand them. It’s a way for me to remember some the ridiculously crazy stunts my friends and I have pulled, those moments and feelings in time I want to capture (sometimes serve as a reminder of things I never want to do again). It allows me to share intimate thoughts and feelings that I don’t typically talk about with people. It’s an inside look at what I usually consider private thoughts. Other times it’s a funny story from my past that I think will entertain people. Sometimes its to write to ask other peoples opinion on a certain matter. I like getting comments and seeing what other people think about a situation.

“Writing is both mask and unveiling.” ~ E.B. White

I never in my wildest imagination thought people would actually read what I wrote. The more I turned to my blog to write, vent, or whatever I happen to be doing that day the more I wonder what my mom or some other family member might think about a post. I don’t advertise the fact that I have a blog. My cousins and another friend with whom I used to work are the only people in my real life who even know of the blogs existence. If anyone else I do know has stumbled upon my little space, they haven’t brought it up. Yes, my picture and name are on the blog and as another blogger wrote a week or so ago, its inevitable that some day, someone will find it. For now though I like having a place that is just my own, a place no one else knows about, where I can freely write and discuss things without worrying about judgments from family and friends. My blog is a place where I can share my thoughts, hopes, and memories. It’s a private place in a very public forum. I have thought about making the blog private, but some of my favorite blogs are those I came across while hopping from blog roll to blog roll.

“Whether or not you write well, write bravely.” ~ Bill Stout

Sometimes I wonder if the things I have written are too personal or too much information. Even though I have a blog, I an extremely private person. When you write a blog, you put a piece of yourself out there, sometimes baring your soul for other people to see. That’s not always an easy thing to do.  I have draft after draft of thoughts and feelings I haven’t decided to share yet. I don’t know if I ever will. I read several blogs, most of them written in a way that is much more eloquent and well spoken than I could ever hope to be. I read blogs ranging from motherhood, to cooking, to life in the city, to shopping, to—well, there’s a blog out there for just about everything. You are all authors of your own story, and I admire all of you for putting yourselves out there; for letting me and others into your life in a way that we otherwise wouldn’t have been able to share. The posts that I write aren’t always grammatically correct, sometimes my spelling is horrible, and sometimes they just might not make a whole lot of sense. Sometimes I just feel like writing.

“This is pretty much what journals are all about, at least to me. I knew as I wrote them that even though they provided an excellent place for brain (and heart, and psyche) dump, they were mainly a map of me.” ~ Colleen Wainwright

So, what about you. Why do you write?