I wonder how I ever got so lucky. How did I get such an amazing family, fabulous friends, and a life that I wouldn't trade for anything. I guess you never realize it till you're older or till you can take a step back and see the bigger picture.
I grew up thinking all families ate together every night at the kitchen table- we needed a good excuse to miss dinner and honestly you didn't want to- it was the one time where we all joined and told funny stories of the day and enjoyed each others company. The meals were predictable with spaghetti and red juice on Monday, chicken and cheese enchiladas on Wednesday and now that those days are gone I wish I could go back and make sure I never missed a meal or a moment.
I forget that when I leave and go off to my life in Boulder or soon around the world, my family and everyone else continues to live around me (how naive/selfish does that sound...) but there are little things that pop up at home that remind me I wasn't here. Like Silas getting in a fender-bender after Keeley's concert- something so small, small enough that there was no damage and so I was never told but still a moment in Silas' life I wasn't here to experience. Or my dad's birthday for the last 3 years. My parent's wedding anniversary. Keeley's CD release party. Sarah's graduation from Dominican. Taylor's ultra-marathon runs. The list continues and I know that while all these amazing, wonderful things are happening for them I'm off living my magical life in Boulder. But it hurts to know you can't have it all- that I can't be here for those special events or spontaneous moments.
So I wonder how I ever even got to know these people- these characters I am so fortunate to call family and friends. Each of them is something different and something vital. One of the things I love the most is that we can still sit around that same kitchen table. Even though there are no more chicken enchiladas (I'm still the only vegetarian but you just wait) and no daily updates, we can pull up a chair and laugh over Christmas cookies, good wine, or apple cider. We still write our schedules on the white board (who is sleeping in what room, who wants to sleep in, who wants to run 10 miles in the morning) and for just this moment of the year, we are all included.
I love Christmas for millions of reasons- for the way the air smells, the music, the colors and lights but mainly because my family comes together. There are no excuses, no exceptions and no other place we'd rather be cuddled up right here at home.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Saturday, December 6, 2008
A New Path
I'm such a list person. I have my things to do today, tomorrow, by the new year, in my lifetime and I find comfort in the organization and the structure. I don't even care if I don't follow the order but I like knowing they are written- a path to follow.
Today, during our CLW inspirational/motivating/encouraging speaker's life story, I found myself questioning the path I thought I planned so long ago. Most people know that I want to be an event planner. I want to create moments remembered for a lifetime, let my clients enjoy their day without worry and chaos. I have always loved planning and organizing and I think I would do an amazing job.
But today, sitting in Hale Sciences, I began to wonder if I really want to be an event planner. Do I say that just because it's comforting? Just because it's a plan? Just because I don't want to say I don't have a plan? On my list, I am an event planner and to steer away from that is a dangerous road. It makes me nervous. I have to get a job right out of college- I have to enter the career force. The pressure, the realizations, it's what I have to actually do and it's creeping up.
I'm tempted to look at jobs online- I don't even know what else is out there. What could someone be with a Communication degree? What would I do after college? Where would I live? The possibilities are endless and beyond scary. But I think recognizing this is the first step. Maybe I don't need a strict life plan- maybe I just need to start walking and see where I end up.
Just no one ask me what I want to do after college.
Today, during our CLW inspirational/motivating/encouraging speaker's life story, I found myself questioning the path I thought I planned so long ago. Most people know that I want to be an event planner. I want to create moments remembered for a lifetime, let my clients enjoy their day without worry and chaos. I have always loved planning and organizing and I think I would do an amazing job.
But today, sitting in Hale Sciences, I began to wonder if I really want to be an event planner. Do I say that just because it's comforting? Just because it's a plan? Just because I don't want to say I don't have a plan? On my list, I am an event planner and to steer away from that is a dangerous road. It makes me nervous. I have to get a job right out of college- I have to enter the career force. The pressure, the realizations, it's what I have to actually do and it's creeping up.
I'm tempted to look at jobs online- I don't even know what else is out there. What could someone be with a Communication degree? What would I do after college? Where would I live? The possibilities are endless and beyond scary. But I think recognizing this is the first step. Maybe I don't need a strict life plan- maybe I just need to start walking and see where I end up.
Just no one ask me what I want to do after college.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Home is Where the Heart Is
"Home is where your history begins. Home is where they catch you when you fall" Such a classic, true, memorable quote from 'Where the Heart Is'.
Last night, landing at SFO, I just felt it- I felt home. Somewhere between the moist air (something the wonderful land of Boulder lacks) the city lights, the embracing hugs and love felt from my family as I walked in the front door, somewhere between the newly painted walls and now multiple guestrooms in a house that used to not feel big enough- somewhere between it all- is my home.
Unfortunately we lost a member of the clan today. Mister, the 16 year old cat who never left my bed, listened to my every moment of tears and laughter, and always curled up by the window to soak in the sun, was put to sleep. It had been a long battle for years- something I never had to witness. When I left for college, Mister was fine. Sure he was old but he was my favorite (which is a lot to say because I don't like domestic animals...) and somewhere between me leaving and not seeing him everyday, he lost everything from 13 pounds to his wild spirit. Saying goodbye to Mister was like saying goodbye to childhood memories and honestly a friend (again surprising I know).
In lighter news, home has still been amazing. It's been less than 24 hours but I've done so many of my favorite things. Beginning with the 8:30am wake up call, something to start me off with a smile, I proceeded to take my 3 mile walk around town with Silas, stopped at Starbucks and now that Silas takes 1st place in being the wealthiest sibling, he bought me an iced coffee, went to the movies with my parents (The Boy With Stripped Pajamas- go see it, truly an amazing story), ventured to rush hour in Costco where we bought $420 worth of wine (my dad claims that number just shows up everywhere... secretly I know he misses those San Rafael moments), and returned home- starving, opening the freezer and found multiple bags of frozen vegetables (my parents know me too well) and made an excellent dinner of veggies, thai sauce, and heck I threw in some tomato soup.
I can't imagine the next week being anything less than today. Yes we had a tragedy but as a family we can pull through anything. That's what I love most about home- it's my safe haven, my oasis, my everything. Now if the rest of my siblings can hurry up, 9 Jeffrey Court will fully be complete.
Last night, landing at SFO, I just felt it- I felt home. Somewhere between the moist air (something the wonderful land of Boulder lacks) the city lights, the embracing hugs and love felt from my family as I walked in the front door, somewhere between the newly painted walls and now multiple guestrooms in a house that used to not feel big enough- somewhere between it all- is my home.
Unfortunately we lost a member of the clan today. Mister, the 16 year old cat who never left my bed, listened to my every moment of tears and laughter, and always curled up by the window to soak in the sun, was put to sleep. It had been a long battle for years- something I never had to witness. When I left for college, Mister was fine. Sure he was old but he was my favorite (which is a lot to say because I don't like domestic animals...) and somewhere between me leaving and not seeing him everyday, he lost everything from 13 pounds to his wild spirit. Saying goodbye to Mister was like saying goodbye to childhood memories and honestly a friend (again surprising I know).
In lighter news, home has still been amazing. It's been less than 24 hours but I've done so many of my favorite things. Beginning with the 8:30am wake up call, something to start me off with a smile, I proceeded to take my 3 mile walk around town with Silas, stopped at Starbucks and now that Silas takes 1st place in being the wealthiest sibling, he bought me an iced coffee, went to the movies with my parents (The Boy With Stripped Pajamas- go see it, truly an amazing story), ventured to rush hour in Costco where we bought $420 worth of wine (my dad claims that number just shows up everywhere... secretly I know he misses those San Rafael moments), and returned home- starving, opening the freezer and found multiple bags of frozen vegetables (my parents know me too well) and made an excellent dinner of veggies, thai sauce, and heck I threw in some tomato soup.
I can't imagine the next week being anything less than today. Yes we had a tragedy but as a family we can pull through anything. That's what I love most about home- it's my safe haven, my oasis, my everything. Now if the rest of my siblings can hurry up, 9 Jeffrey Court will fully be complete.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
The Little Things
It's been a week of the little things. It really has made me so thankful for life (how great does this apply to the month of november...)
From a late night movie on Sunday to last nights stargazing, two bottles of red wine, and being wrapped up in blankets as we waited for the snowfall that never came. From the repeating of the new Taylor Swift singles to busting out my winter scarves. From the holiday cups arriving at Starbucks to Obama being elected the new president.
I've become a big fan of November and all that it entitles. Even though my parents have turned down my tofurkey idea I am looking forward to Thanksgiving- the pumpkin pie, green beans, butternut squash, the infamous family photos, the morning Dipsea stairs run, the official beginning of Christmas music, watching 'Home For The Holidays', the afternoon walk through the colorful leaves and other family adventures that develop throughout the week.
I'm beyond thankful to even have these traditions and memories. It's amazing that I can feel so comfortable here in Boulder yet with 2 weeks till I return to the Bay, I can feel every muscle in my body pulling me west and calling me home.
From a late night movie on Sunday to last nights stargazing, two bottles of red wine, and being wrapped up in blankets as we waited for the snowfall that never came. From the repeating of the new Taylor Swift singles to busting out my winter scarves. From the holiday cups arriving at Starbucks to Obama being elected the new president.
I've become a big fan of November and all that it entitles. Even though my parents have turned down my tofurkey idea I am looking forward to Thanksgiving- the pumpkin pie, green beans, butternut squash, the infamous family photos, the morning Dipsea stairs run, the official beginning of Christmas music, watching 'Home For The Holidays', the afternoon walk through the colorful leaves and other family adventures that develop throughout the week.
I'm beyond thankful to even have these traditions and memories. It's amazing that I can feel so comfortable here in Boulder yet with 2 weeks till I return to the Bay, I can feel every muscle in my body pulling me west and calling me home.
Monday, October 27, 2008
my photograph
I just spent the last two hours sitting in Jean's room flipping through Vogue and some expensive shoe catalog (that we actually don't think even sells shoes but rather fantasies) and pulled out pages that inspired us or told adventurous stories. It's amazing the emotion that a camera can capture- the simple shadows or the full blown, vibrant colors- both give me instant memories or instant glances at my (dream) future. A 'soho' modern apartment with glass walls and high class furniture and the silhouette of two dancing lovers- sometimes I like to imagine myself in a big city, in a small apartment, with a little job, curled up in my couch watching Love Actually (yes Keeley and I watch the same movies..), sipping on hot coffee and glancing at the moving world around me. I could honestly fully imagine living in this photo.
If I could take a photograph of my life, it would be in black and white, classy. The mountains would be nuzzled in the back while the ocean would seep the foreground. Barefoot in a summer dress, I'd stand alone but my family and friends not too far off center. Nervous to make footprints yet I'd have forward motion. The trees would sway and leaves would fall but my strong stance would base me in the sand. My hair is down, my eyes are mysteriously seeking forward and there is nothing but possibility resting before me.
If only Vogue could capture that.
If I could take a photograph of my life, it would be in black and white, classy. The mountains would be nuzzled in the back while the ocean would seep the foreground. Barefoot in a summer dress, I'd stand alone but my family and friends not too far off center. Nervous to make footprints yet I'd have forward motion. The trees would sway and leaves would fall but my strong stance would base me in the sand. My hair is down, my eyes are mysteriously seeking forward and there is nothing but possibility resting before me.
If only Vogue could capture that.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Long Time Gone
I recently went through a phase of being absolutely numb to everything but the weather and the season change. It began with an email intended for my mailbox but never made it and concluded with endless tears that had been stored away since June. The numbness was like no situation I had experienced before. Even as my life began to develop and advance- I felt nothing. It was as if I was someone I had never met and I didn't even recognize myself in the mirror. But when I walked around campus and felt the cool wind burn against my face- I felt something. I felt happiness and was so thankful that I live here and I began taking photographs with my mind- wishing that maybe someone would see the immense beauty that lay before my eyes.
The tears came on Friday. It was raining, gloomy and everyone (but me) complained about how freezing it had become. I still didn't recognize myself especially when getting ready for the evening. It's like having one of those days where nothing looks good and you feel like regardless of the 20 dresses in your closet- you have nothing to wear. I borrowed clothes from friends and finally settled but still didn't feel right. Ironically I got multiple compliments on my attire but I didn't know what they were seeing.
The tears swelled my face. Even the following day it hurt to keep them open. The dark clouds kept me inside all day and brought out sisterhood bonding and multiple cups of chai tea. By 6 pm, I had officially done nothing and so I began to talk. I talked out every issue that had been revealed by the tears and every wound that now seeped open to the public. At 9, I went to work and I felt something on the walk there. It began to smell like Christmas ( a smell I've been waiting for since it dissipated 10 months ago) and suddenly everything seemed okay. When I returned home at 1 (yes surprisingly people go to the gym on a Saturday night till 1am...) I felt a rush inside of me. I turned on Love Actually (a must) and cleaned my room- something I hadn't done in a very long time but is so me. I love to be clean and I simply hadn't felt the need for it since I hadn't felt anything in quiet a long time. I awoke this morning way past my ETA but it was alright. I went on the have one of my favorite days- the library, freshly brewed coffee, hanging out with Joanna, did my laundry, worked out, and concluding the evening with a magical chat with my sister. For the first time in weeks- I was me. People noticed (as if I should care about their comments but forgive me I do) I had more people tell me that I looked happy- that I looked good- that I looked like me- than I have in weeks. I'm back.
The first snow arrived tonight. I somehow don't think it's a coinsidence that it occured tonight- on this sudden re-amp of my life. My favorite season is finally here and I can't believe I almost missed it.
The tears came on Friday. It was raining, gloomy and everyone (but me) complained about how freezing it had become. I still didn't recognize myself especially when getting ready for the evening. It's like having one of those days where nothing looks good and you feel like regardless of the 20 dresses in your closet- you have nothing to wear. I borrowed clothes from friends and finally settled but still didn't feel right. Ironically I got multiple compliments on my attire but I didn't know what they were seeing.
The tears swelled my face. Even the following day it hurt to keep them open. The dark clouds kept me inside all day and brought out sisterhood bonding and multiple cups of chai tea. By 6 pm, I had officially done nothing and so I began to talk. I talked out every issue that had been revealed by the tears and every wound that now seeped open to the public. At 9, I went to work and I felt something on the walk there. It began to smell like Christmas ( a smell I've been waiting for since it dissipated 10 months ago) and suddenly everything seemed okay. When I returned home at 1 (yes surprisingly people go to the gym on a Saturday night till 1am...) I felt a rush inside of me. I turned on Love Actually (a must) and cleaned my room- something I hadn't done in a very long time but is so me. I love to be clean and I simply hadn't felt the need for it since I hadn't felt anything in quiet a long time. I awoke this morning way past my ETA but it was alright. I went on the have one of my favorite days- the library, freshly brewed coffee, hanging out with Joanna, did my laundry, worked out, and concluding the evening with a magical chat with my sister. For the first time in weeks- I was me. People noticed (as if I should care about their comments but forgive me I do) I had more people tell me that I looked happy- that I looked good- that I looked like me- than I have in weeks. I'm back.
The first snow arrived tonight. I somehow don't think it's a coinsidence that it occured tonight- on this sudden re-amp of my life. My favorite season is finally here and I can't believe I almost missed it.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Strange How Hard It Rains Now
It was supposed to be an Indian Summer; as in dry weather, hazy air and occurs in late October. But with weather like today, I sense winter is upon us. I haven't seen rain like this in a long time. I think today I even used the phrase "cats and dogs" and I'm mildly embarrassed to confess I used such an old lady term.
I worked all day to finish my lit paper so I could go out tonight. I finished but I still haven't moved from my desk. My desk sits in front of a window that faces northeast Boulder. Actually half of it is shielded by the Theta House's roof but there is one light post outside that is keeping the whole street illuminated. It's impressive because literally there are no other lights visible except the one right outside my window. Starring directly under the bulb, I can see the rain pour through the light and disappear into the darkness of 15th street. Being the dork that I am, I put Patty Griffin's "Rain" on the i-pod speakers. I think I am the only person I know here that listens and appreciates PG and all her magic.
I'm looking forward to this comforting weather. I love the change of seasons. I love when it gets cold and we all complain that we have to throw on our uggs, scarfs, and double up on jackets. Inside I'm thrilled as I layer before venturing outside and I bet I'm not the only one secretly waiting for that first snowflake to fall.
I worked all day to finish my lit paper so I could go out tonight. I finished but I still haven't moved from my desk. My desk sits in front of a window that faces northeast Boulder. Actually half of it is shielded by the Theta House's roof but there is one light post outside that is keeping the whole street illuminated. It's impressive because literally there are no other lights visible except the one right outside my window. Starring directly under the bulb, I can see the rain pour through the light and disappear into the darkness of 15th street. Being the dork that I am, I put Patty Griffin's "Rain" on the i-pod speakers. I think I am the only person I know here that listens and appreciates PG and all her magic.
I'm looking forward to this comforting weather. I love the change of seasons. I love when it gets cold and we all complain that we have to throw on our uggs, scarfs, and double up on jackets. Inside I'm thrilled as I layer before venturing outside and I bet I'm not the only one secretly waiting for that first snowflake to fall.
Monday, September 8, 2008
The Beginning to My Story Already In Progress
Growing up my dad always called me pickle. Some relatives caught on and fortunately the kids at school did not. Today few people refer to me as this fruit (yes it has seeds so it's a fruit).
I started 'Confessions of A Pickle" years ago but rather as my own personal journal. It would go along with the other 15 that have been accumulating over the years but I think blogging is different. It's a different confession- it's my life told through run-on-sentences, fragments, sappy quotes from movies or songs that make me feel oh so inspired, and all displayed on the internet for anyone to read.
I'm officially "in my twentys" and in a generation where Sex and The City promises being single at 40 is still fabulous, I figure I have nothing but possibilities ahead of me.
I started 'Confessions of A Pickle" years ago but rather as my own personal journal. It would go along with the other 15 that have been accumulating over the years but I think blogging is different. It's a different confession- it's my life told through run-on-sentences, fragments, sappy quotes from movies or songs that make me feel oh so inspired, and all displayed on the internet for anyone to read.
I'm officially "in my twentys" and in a generation where Sex and The City promises being single at 40 is still fabulous, I figure I have nothing but possibilities ahead of me.
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