sunday evening

just returned from a trip to dayton and coldwater, the town my dad's family is from. dayton for a family (his) wedding, coldwater for the famous community picnic. both trips were extremely interesting in terms of the cultures we experienced... i don't know how much more i can write without just completely making fun of some/most things, and since this is a public forum (although i think 5 people know about this, maybe 3 read it), i think i will just leave it at that... interesting. ask me for details. give me wine and i may spill the juicy ones.

the husband and i went on a walk tonight for some ice cream at the beach (him for ice cream, i had myself convinced that there was a band playing at the park by the beach-see picture above- there wasn't. i lost another bet to my hubby. i won't tell you the terms, but i don't think i'll be paying up soon.) we ran into some neighbors at the beach, though- all with young kids, and it took us over an hour to walk the two blocks back. highlights included:

1. walking through the pedestrian tunnel with a three year old, two five year olds, and a six year old, all screaming at the top of their lungs as the shrieks echoed around us.

2. three year old spilling ice cream on her leg, the other (weird) neighbor had her dog (!!!) lick it off, which incited more screaming.

3. running into a bagpiper playing on top of the sledding hill (a soccer coach for 8 year olds, only in my town, right?), and watching as: the three year old took a dive down the sledding hill, the five year olds pulled the bagpiper's tassles, and the dog stole someone's cup of ice cream.

we were saved when the five year old #1 needed to go potty, so we all had to hurry home, after watching the five year old #2 show us his two-wheeler skills.

all pretty much par for the course when you're surrounded by kids, but husband and i have not been surrounded by kids for quite some time. immediately following, we crashed on our new sofa and were silent for a good three minutes, listening as the three year old was being hauled away for a bath. husband then told me that our kids will not be like that.

except, they will be. maybe not as completely rude and hyper (because mommy would probably have a meltdown and start drinking hard liquor by 2pm), but really, kids are kids. and they're great in all their screaming-ice cream dropping-potty training kidness. and i really, really don't know how anyone who hasn't been married for at least 3 years handles it. i feel like husband and i have a hard enough time caring for the kitchen, let alone children.

anyway, it was still good for us to spend time with them, i think we're the black sheep of the neighborhood right now and some stepford part of me wants to ensure my invitation to the block party. my husband has already classified everyone (of whom he's met maybe 6) in the neighborhood and has already picked his friends (of whom he's met maybe 3). i, however, think that clambakes and block parties are essential for life in this little town, so i'm trying my small-talk strategies on everyone i see... even the creepy cat lady across the street.

alright- off to finish a project for work before gearing up for another work week.... don't you miss summers? i saw a girl around 10 years old today and decided i wouldn't mind being that age again. 10 years old and nothin but bikes, fireflies, and the pool to look forward to.

pasta, thank you's, and a sexy leather jacket

whew. it's been one long, somewhat melancholy week(s). i'm trying so hard not to be a pessimist- whenever anything bad happens, i think, how would this situation feel if i had a different attitude? but i can't change my attitude. i think i need a life coach to tell me that it's not ok to still want to kick the policeman that gave me my first speeding ticket 2 weeks ago. or the doctor who wouldn't give me any advice on my ankle that is still, amazingly, swollen up like a golfball, with a bone sticking out at an extremely uncomfortable (to look at, and to live with) angle. -- the foot is fine, just painful, still. i'd like some heavy-duty ibprofen at the very least. it's just one thing after another.

don't you wish you could focus as much on the positives as you do the negatives? i'm still anxious about f-ing up at work this week (twice!-- unheard of, usually for me). when is it friday, and beyond that, when/where is the nearest happy hour?

i promised this blog wouldn't be an outlet for me to vent- which would make it very easy to do this week. so- deep breath. drop the burdens and MOVE ON.

on a far more important note, i am going to my first fashion show, and i have nothing to wear.

i should back up and clarify that i'm not sure a fashion show hosted by the barley house in cleveland really counts as a 'fashion' show, but as an avid reader of fashionista, i think i need to show up in a very cool ensemble, complete with a statement necklace and possibly a mini leather jacket. that, or a herve leger bandage dress (which were on sale at intermix in south beach. go figure that sales in sobe mean $900+ and clearly out of the range of me attempting to rationalize the purchase).


outfits a la mk and rachel would be nice.


so, what is stopping me from having all of this money? i just want fabulous things- and to be able to afford a landscaper to just design, plant, and maintain my front yard-- another point of contention on the marital front. sometimes i think i should just do like what that pop culture 'book-of-no-paragraphs-and-hardly-any-complex-sentences' (the secret) says and write myself a check for, oh, $100,000 to tape on my ceiling and stare at every day.

i probably need real meditation, to let my anxieties and fears slide away while focusing on making myself a healthier person... yet, i'm ready to meditate on a check... don't think less of me, ok? i've started re-reading some books as i've been unpacking, and a favorite of mine is still eat pray love. i'm inspired by author elizabeth gilbert's ability to travel, balance the good and the wholesome. learn the pleasures of life, as well as the spiritual lessons and connections within herself. how amazing is it to find someone who can spend an intense amount of time with God, meditating at an ashram in india, and still appreciate a sexy italian man and a great pasta dish (and dessert, and wine, and cheese)? that type of complexity is rare to find in a person- or rare for someone to admit, i suppose. maybe i should journey to italy, back to florence, buy a sexy leather jacket and eat wonderful pasta, while reading walden in the park, and then spend my afternoon in deep meditation. what a pleasurable and exhausting vacation that would be...

my roommate in college and i used to play this game, sometimes it was the 'i wish' game, sometimes it was the 'butler' game (stemming from the idea that we decided a butler would be more efficient in bringing us our wishes). we would sit on our couch in our little apartment in a shithole of a town and wish the things we wanted- i wish i could have chocolate-covered strawberries, i wish i could be in the hamptons on a yacht, i wish i was best friends with adrien grenier. ok, i made that last wish a little more pg that it probably was originally, but you understand the concept. the wish game was such a fun activity, until we would finally stop wishing and start talking about how our lives in that shithole of a town were just not as fabulous as either of us deserved. but, once we learned the power of positive energy and positive thoughts, we started playing the wish game on purpose, and with a renewed sense of... wishing. we would wish for things, talk about it, think about it, and then thank the universe for it.

the thank you's were our most productive part of our positive energy models- as we started thinking positively, greater things were happening. or, we reacted to them differently- either way, life was looking up. although we were still in a shithole of a town, we were offered free drinks- from not-so-creepy bartenders/managers at the local applebees, we were given fresh, homemade bread to take home from the bread man in the cafeteria at school, and it wasn't all free things, we just felt BETTER. we eventually said thank you's when we felt ourselves going into a negative spiral, saying mean things, thinking sad things, or not feeling appreciative for all that we do have. our boyfriends loved the thank you's we would make them say if we felt that they were ever spiraling negatively through the universe, but in general, the thank you's are key to becoming a better person, and feeling like a better person.

my dad read that jim tressel book, the winner's manual, or something like that, and one key component to success, jim says- is to cultivate an attitude of gratitude. so, here i am, dwelling on my misery, my aching foot, my non-thank-you-writing husband, and my hellish week at work, thanking the universe.

some quick thank you's- to demonstrate-
1. thank you for my job, my inspiring mentors, and my challenges at work. i can only grow and learn, and take on more challenges through the opportunities and risks they give me.
2. thank you for the ability to walk- there once was a time where i wasn't sure i would ever walk- at least normally, again. this is a reminder of my strength and diligence, and my body's resiliance.
3. thank you for my husband, and his ability to love me even when i'm at my most difficult.

(i cannot thank that police officer, however. that was a shitty move on his part, and he chose a profession where the majority of people he comes in contact with on his little motorcycle dispell loads of negative energy towards him every day).

see? the thank you's worked. now... when is friday? and seriously, what am i going to wear to the fashion show? deep breaths, and i will write more tomorrow... updating you on the fashion crisis, and thanking the universe for one more day closer to friday.

xx

sweet new beginnings

hi. as an introduction: i am a writer (published if you count college journals), yet i'm not sure what this blog will become. isn't that the beauty of a new beginning, though? i've started blogs before, my wild attempt to actually publish a journal entry. it was my chance to instantly publish my thoughts, my journal entries to the world-- until, inevitably, i would log on, either delete the post or click so many privacy settings that eventually even i could not find the blog. but here i am again, craving for the immediacy of the publishing, craving for something that is mine, and for something that reminds me of what i have done, what i want to become, and how this beginning will be documented.

i am recently married, and have found that although it is unquestionably an exciting and wonderful time in my life, i'm also reacting to it with hesitation, still sorting through my emotions. i'm much more of an emotional person than i would like to admit; often i can feel tension in a room, and i react to the stress levels of those around me (usually feeling responsible for it somehow, and incapable of fixing it, of course). so when this marriage happened, i was bombarded with an insane amount of emotions-- from sharing a space with someone (a guy. with dirty socks, whiskers on my sink, and sticky, dried oatmeal bowls on the counter), to the self-realization of beginning a new chapter, starting a 'forever' version of yourself- defined forever by my name, my title (mrs, wife, etc), and my partner.

now, it's not all dirty dishes and gross laundry, it's also someone to laugh with and to play with, to accompany me on walks, listen to my feelings, and then, always, to give me my favorite hugs in the world. he is a wonderful, truly amazing man, and i find all the cliches in the world probably wouldn't do our relationship justice. i married, as they say, my best friend. i find it a little scary and calculating, because to me, i have found the perfect combination of love, passion, and friendship-something i don't think many have found. calculating? i guess i feel as though i somehow managed to cheat the system, marry the man who was all of those and more to me. sometimes a passionate lover, sometimes a best friend, most of the time he is both to me. but, i am working on finding out who this 'me' is- the post-college, post-dating, post-marriage, post-maiden name, post-everything me.

when i go back to my roots, to who i've always been, to what has always comforted my heart, and (to be fair) to what people have always told me i am, then i am a writer. so to find who i am, or to connect to a piece of me- i decided that writing was a place to begin. Sweet Beginnings, all around (raise your wine, now, if you like).

and that is where i begin this blog- with an introduction, a glass of wine, and a hope that one day this looks like something a writer may have published. it's a time for discovery, and although i drive myself (and sometimes him) crazy with mood swings, tears, outrageous plans and dreams- it is an exciting place to be. to be young, in love, and have a world to explore.

i'll end with a word from Henry James- "we work in the dark- we do what we can- we give what we have. our doubt is our passion, and our passion is our task. the rest is the madness of art."