And I've always lived like this, keeping a comfortable distance...

Oh, 2010. Sometimes saying goodbye is really rather easy.
It was a mostly good year...the highlights were wonderful - I met some amazing people, a couple of whom have become a couple of my closest friends. It's hard to believe that a year ago I hadn't met them yet, as we easily fell into friendships that seem like they've lasted a lifetime. I got to spend Christmas with my whole immediate family, something that hadn't happened since 2003. I started to really gain some self-confidence, which was something I had been lacking the previous 27 years. I got my own place and in just over two months, have really turned it into a home.
But as always, there were plenty of dark spots on the year. I made some mistakes, and I'm sure I'll make some of them again. I hurt some people. I hurt myself. I wasted time worrying about things that I couldn't change. I wasted time trying to change things I couldn't. I lost myself more times than I care to remember, and I'm still not sure that I'm growing into the woman I want to be.
I've kept myself closed off from so many things. I want so badly to be the happy, successful, independent woman that I maybe turned my back on anything that got in the way...including a couple chances at relationships that, while they may or may not have worked out, could have been something I needed. I never trusted anyone enough to let them in, to believe they wouldn't hurt me. I continued to look at everything with the cold eyes that I've gotten so good at seeing out of.
And that is what disappoints me the most about this year - that I didn't even let myself try. That I didn't take any risks. That I said, "Oh no, I know better - I know that this will never go anywhere. I know that you're just going to make me cry in the end, so let's not call it anything more than it is. And we can go our separate ways, and I can keep being the girl who doesn't care about love."
Well. That was stupid.
Am I really better off not having let myself fall? Am I happier tonight, alone and avoiding people than I would be if I were with someone who may not have been perfect? Did I cry less this year than last? Has my heart broken fewer times? Has it ever even healed from the last time? Don't I owe it to myself to let myself believe in someone other than myself?

So. I don't have any New Year's resolutions. But I do have a new goal in my life - this year and every one after that. Keep my heart open. Let it make some decisions. Stop overthinking everything. Stop assuming the worst out of every situation just because that's all I've had in the past. Believe that the best way to finally heal a broken heart is to let it bleed again. Stop settling for all the moments of the past - all the moments that have just led to regret and tears with no one to help dry them. Let myself take some chances, make some mistakes, but know that they are leading somewhere other than a lifetime of keeping myself apart from any chance of love I'll ever have. Keep dreaming. Let love in.

Welcome, 2011. I can't wait to meet you in a couple hours with open arms and an open heart.

The most beautiful smile is the one that struggles through the tears (in memoriam)

Six years ago today, the world lost a hero. A quiet, gentle, reluctant hero, but a hero nonetheless. She may have seemed an ordinary woman to the rest of the world, but to me, she was the woman I strove to become (and still do). Six years ago the world got a little bit darker, but to those of us who knew her, we discovered there are some lights that don't go out.

I wrote this on my grandmother's birthday last May, and I can't think of a better tribute to her memory than sharing it again - than letting people know that this amazing woman lived, and loved, and made me who I am. I miss her often - when something big happens and I can't tell her, or when I make spaghetti from her recipe, or when I glance at one of the pictures I have of her and my grandpa when they were young, or in so many quiet moments when I see a little bit of her in me.
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May 2, 2010
My next tattoo is going to be 'Que sera, sera' in script on my wrist. And it's going to be in memory of my Grandma K, who said that all the time.

Today would be her 92nd birthday.

It's impossible for me to not think about her most of the time, but today especially. There are some people in your life who shape you, who push you, who make you better, and my grandmother was one of those.

Every struggle I've had in my life...every war I've waged, whether it was against myself or others....every thing I've ever tried and failed at and tried again....The part of me that refuses to give up or give in, that refuses to accept limitations, that refuses to surrender...that comes from my grandma. She was a woman who survived anything that came at her. She battled and beat cancer more than once. She stood by her husband and her child and her grandchildren whatever happened. She did everything she could to make sure that her son and his children would have a good life. She looked for the best in people. She looked for the best in life. She was an optimist and she passed that on.

And she was beautiful! In all the ways that mattered, and in many that didn't. She had the kindest eyes I've ever seen. Full of compassion and caring, but with a glint of humor. She was always ready to laugh. Always ready to humor a child by listening to a stammered knock-knock joke, or bumbling story, and laughing her heart out. She could make you feel like the only person in the world she could possibly want to be listening to. She was selfless and funny and generous and loving and big-hearted and a force of nature. She knew when to make you laugh, or when to take you in her arms and comfort you with soft words and hugs. She displayed a stick figure drawing on her refrigerator with the same care as a straight A report card. She would take the time to do whatever it took to make other people happy, whether it was finding the perfect present, or cutting up watermelon into the kind of slices you preferred. She was a great cook and I wish I had cared more when I was younger so I could have learned more from her. I think of all the times I spent at her house, and wish that I had listened a littler harder, paid a little more attention, asked more questions. There is so much I could have discovered, so many things I wish I knew!

Grandma died 5 years ago this past December. It seems like yesterday, and a thousand years ago, all at once. There's not a day of my life that I don't think about her, feel her, discover another part of the influence she had over my life. I was unbelievably blessed to get to spend so much of my time with such an incredible woman. Some of my happiest memories from childhood are the times I spent at my grandparents' house, my sister and I dressing up in stupid outfits, or 'building' things in the backyard, or just sitting at the table coloring with Grandma. She was content with simple pleasures, and the greatest one of those was seeing her son and his children happy and healthy.

It's been over 5 years. And I'm starting to forget some of these things. I'm starting to forget the smile, and the softness, and the easy way she could turn an entire day around. I'm starting to forget the sly look in her eye when she was teasing my grandpa, and the look of her hands as she worked in the kitchen. And that scares me. How could I possibly forget any part of this amazing woman?

But then I look at my dad. And I look at my sister. And I look at myself. And I imagine the sons or daughters I may someday have.
And I realize that no matter how long she has been gone, her legacy will live on. Her touch on our lives will reach into the next generation, and the one after that, and however many come after.

And I know that she'll be looking down on all of us with love in her eyes and a smile that comes from the heart, giving a little push whenever we need it, and being the quiet voice in our heads, reminding us that whatever will be, will be.

I'm bound to thank you for it....(A tribute to the best people in the world)

I generally have all these things in my head on a daily basis, but it's Thanksgiving, and what better time to say it (write it?) out loud? Especially for the people in my life - you don't ever get enough credit. So, on this day of thanks and love, I would like to hopefully give you back something for all the amazing things you've given me.

To my family - While we may be a certifiably insane psychotic completely batshit crazy how the HELL aren't you all institutionalized*quirky* bunch, we are all also fiercely loyal to each other, and while we all may give each other all kinds of grief about just about anything, it's only because we care. I have been incredibly blessed to have the extended family I do - it's made my parents and sister moving over five hundred miles away a little easier. And my parents! Never has the world known two more amazing and supportive people - I know I am biased, but I truly do have the best parents ever. And because of them, I have my big sister, who is my hero and protector and partner in crime and confidant and best friend all in one. Of course, I can't not mention my grandfather who is 91 and will probably still have me cracking up at corny jokes when I see him next month. And I can't forget the ones who've passed on: Grandma K and Grammy and Popu. They played a huge role in shaping the woman I am today.

To my friends - Never has a girl been so lucky to have so many wonderful people in her life. The last year or two has had a lot of ups and downs, and I never would have made it through without my friends. Whether it's the people I've known for twenty years, the soul mate I met in middle school, or the person I met six months ago who quickly turned into one of my best friends, every single one of them has changed my life for the better. Some people I am lucky enough to see every day (and lucky enough to have them keep me sane during long work days), and others close to that often. Others I only see every few months - for some of them, it doesn't matter how much time has passed - we pick up right where we left off. I am so grateful for the co-workers who have turned into friends, and the friends that have turned into family.

I love you guys all so much, and honestly? I wouldn't be here without you. You keep me going, keep me breathing, keep me smiling, and definitely keep me laughing. For all of the times you've let me pass out on your sofa, cry on your shoulder, use you for your ability to lift heavy things, join your family for holidays when I didn't have a place to go...thank you. For installing extra locks on my door, for picking me up when my car was out of commission, for picking up the check when you knew I was low on funds, for taking me out dancing when I needed some cheering up, for telling me I would be okay when I was sure I wouldn't....thank you. For pushing me through some of the hardest times I've faced, for picking me up off the floor when I thought I was done, for giving me a hug and a smile and a word of encouragement, for supporting me and challenging me and saving me....I can never thank you enough. I'd be nothing without you, but with you, I have everything.

Lots of love, and wishes for a wonderful and safe holiday season to all you and yours. 

Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs (An anniversary post)

March 10 - The first date

Two people meet. They’re polar opposites. She comes from a huge family. He’s an only child. She’s outgoing and vivacious. He is introverted and serious. She is creative and he is logical. Her sarcastic streak is legendary. His sincerity can’t be questioned. They share the same silly nature, the same fierce loyalty, the same big-heartedness.

Two people meet. Their differences bring them together. Their chemistry is undeniable. Some people don’t understand it. Some people question them, maybe think they’re moving too fast. Some people think there’s no chance this will last.

Some people didn’t know what they were talking about.

He was dating someone else when they met. Luckily for them (and for my sister and I!) that fizzled out – I like to think fate had a hand in that. In November of 1978, they began a flirtation that would build until they finally went on their first date in March.

May, about a week before getting engaged

Two months and three days after their first date, they got engaged. On May 13, my father asked my mother to spend the rest of her life with him. She forgot to say yes, too swept up in the joy of the moment.

Four months and just over two weeks later, they were married. It was a simple wedding, but the love in the room must have been obvious for anyone to see. They were both glowing – radiant, even.

Several months later, they welcomed their first daughter. Two years and three months after that, they had their second. It was a family that struggled with the things all families deal with, but above everything else, it was a family that loved each other fiercely. It was a home where two little girls grew up seeing what a family could be, and looking forward to the day when they could have their own. It was a home where even though the parents fought sometimes, they never walked away. They cared enough to stick it out. It was a partnership.  

September 28, 1979

Thirty-one years later, they are still madly in love. They still turn to each other when one of their songs comes on the radio, exchanging a secret look. They still call each other by nicknames developed decades ago. They still instinctively grasp hands when walking through the grocery store. They still have their little spats, and they still figure out a way to work through them. They still remember every anniversary – first kiss, first date, the day they got engaged, and of course, the day they said “I do.” They’re still in it. For the long haul.

Two people meet. They take a chance. They start a life.

Thirty-one years later, they’ve raised two daughters. Both of those daughters are strong, and smart, and happy. They both could be accused of being picky – of thinking that no one is good enough for them.

But those two daughters? They know that’s not the case.

October 2008

They just know what love can look like. And they’re not willing to settle. Because for their entire lives, they’ve seen what real love can be. And they won’t stop looking until they find that.

Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad. Thanks for teaching me about love, about life, and about holding out for something spectacular. And thanks for giving me and Sara an example that we can look up to – an example of how while love isn’t always easy, it’s always worth it.

Could this just be the day, I think, when anything is possible?

Fall weather is here and it makes me listen to David Gray a lot...so here you go. 

Using only song titles from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions.

Pick Your Artist: David Gray

Describe yourself: Gathering Dust
How do you feel about yourself: Holding On
If you could go anywhere, where would you go: From Here You Can Almost See the Sea
What do you want to do right now: Debauchery
What is your love life like?: Dead in the Water
What are you good at: Forgetting

You know that: A Moment Changes Everything
What do you dream of: This Year's Love
If your life was a tv show, what would it be called: Silver Lining
What is life to you: Forever is Tomorrow is Today
What is the best advice you have to give: Shine

A much needed break....

When this posts, I'll be floating down a river in a tube, drink in hand....possibly napping, but it's supposed to be chilly and it won't be that far into our trip yet.

I'm going camping this weekend - my first vacation since May. Of 2009.

I need it.

School is starting next week. Work just keeps getting busier. I haven't had a chance to just relax for more than a few hours at a time in god knows how long.

So in a few minutes, I am turning off my computer until I get home Monday. Once we get on the campground tomorrow, I will likely lose cell signal.

No outside contact for 72 hours. No work emails to check. No irritating ex-boyfriends sending friend requests on Facebook.

Just me, a tent, a river, some good tunes, good drinks, and 28 incredibly entertaining other people.

I can't wait.

But after you read this, while I am still floating down a river, please leave me comments or send me emails or something....because when I get back on Monday? I am going to need something to bring me back to reality.

Just one day/night without weird dreams...that's all I ask

"Metaphorically, driving a car in your dream, is analogous to your sex life and sexual performance. Consider how you are driving and what kind of car you are driving and how it relates to your waking sex life." (Dream Moods)

So, going way too fast, zipping in and out of traffic, barely squeezing by on the shoulder, up and down hills and over bridges.....basically driving like every kind of terrible driver in the world at once, all the while I and my car are shrinking smaller and smaller until by the time I bust through the doors of a mall, I am essentially driving a matchbox car....

Hmmm.

"To dream that you are shrinking, suggests that you lack self-confidence and self-esteem. You may be feeling embarrassed, insignificant or unimportant in some situation.  Perhaps you feel that you have been overlooked by others."

Well, that second one, I can certainly get behind...

I'm ready to fall and that's okay....

My window is open and there is a bite in the air tonight. It brings the promise of fall, and hot apple cider, and cozying up next to a bonfire in a big, warm sweatshirt. Halloween and haunted houses. All-night movie marathons and spending hours in a coffee shop working on homework. Giant scarves and clear skies.

I love fall, yet it always makes me a little sad. Maybe it's because it's an ending - the end of summer, the end of freedom, the end of warm weather. Maybe because it's a time of year when it's better to be with someone...to have someone to cuddle up with when the nights are just a little too chilly - someone to carve pumpkins with and be the other half of a cheesy couple's Halloween costume.

Or maybe because it means winter is right around the corner, and the world is about to stop for a few months. I love all four seasons, but I wish winter lasted a week. Or two. Not for five months. I would be happy with snow for Christmas, and then right back up to being 50+ degrees. It's not just the snow - the cold is incredibly rough on my joints, and every winter I go through pain pills and IcyHot like they're going out of style.

But then again, surviving another winter just makes spring all the more wonderful.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

Fall. Football. Apple wine. Big warm sweaters. Beautiful colors. Wrapping up in comfy blankets and reading for hours. Feeling like, even though all the green is gone, that the world is about to be fresh and clean and new again.

I'm so ready for it.

But I'm really going to miss my flip-flops.

Mawwiage is what bwings us togetha today....(Spin Cycle)

I guess I'm a typical girl.

I have been dreaming about poofy white dresses and champagne toasts and flower combinations and first dance song selections for as long as I can remember. I've been planning the perfect wedding since I was in preschool and got married the first time.

Hell, I even have a dress picked out (from many afternoons spent with engaged friends, pouring over bridal magazines. Come on. A single girl has to find something to entertain herself, and reading stories on wedding etiquette? Not gonna cut it.)

I know what song my dad and I will dance to. I know my sister will make me cry with her maid of honor toast. I know I'm much more likely to wear flip-flops than I am to wear heels. I know I care more about having a great DJ and bar than I do about location or decorations.

The part that trips me up?

The groom.

In all my fantasies as a child, and any inkling of an dream now, there's no man in the picture. Maybe Johnny Depp (yes, in that costume...) once in a while, or Hugh Jackman (definitely minus the Wolverine claws...), but let's be honest - that's more of a wedding night fantasy ;-)

The older I get, the more I become convinced that I'll never get married. When I was eighteen, I figured it was a matter of time and within five years I'd be engaged to Mr. Perfect.

Ten years later, I'm not so optimistic.

Of course, I'm also a lot more independent. A lot more confident that if I end up alone, I'll be okay. It might not be ideal, but I know that I'll be fine whatever way my life works out.


People always say that this changes when you meet the right person. That suddenly, you'll just be ready to start your life with someone you love.

I'm definitely not there. Not even close. Even the men I've been almost sure I loved, I could never see a future together. I don't know if that says more about the relationships, or me. I hope I find that someday. But until then?

I just want the party. The dress. The dancing. All the stupid traditions.

And if I meet someone who makes me care less about the buffet and the videographer and more about the marriage? Well, I have the invitations picked out already.....

Happy birthday, Auntie!

Just a quick one - everyone stop in today to wish my Auntie a happy birthday! And then be jealous that I get to have dinner and ice cream with her tonight!

Thanks, Auntie M, for exposing me to fantastic music, and also for getting me addicted to The Princess Bride all those years ago (on laser disc, no less!), when I used to babysit and make mix tapes after the kiddies had gone to bed :-)

That's her in the bottom right, circa 1984. (And my momma is right next to her!)

RTT: The problem is estrogen....

♥ I can find a Grey's quote for just about any situation. Probably because I am over-dramatic and talk too much, just like the characters on that show.

♥ Can I just say, my new birth control is totally fucking with me? I am so ridiculously moody now I'm just waiting for someone to slap me and yell at me to get ahold of myself. Someone asked me how I was today, and I about started crying into my coffee mug. WTF?! I do not like this.

♥ I am taking a few days off before school starts again, and they cannot get here fast enough. I haven't really taken any time off, other than being sick, since last May. I need a real vacation sometime soon - planning on one for spring break next year, with my best friend. That's too far away.

♥ Funny how a year changes everything.....

♥ Completely unrelated, but my old classmate at Birdie Royale is entering the Mad Men Casting Call and you should totally vote for her. She is absolutely stunning and a wonderful person. Plus it's super easy - just click that link, and click 'Vote' - You don't need to register or anything.

♥ Seriously. Eff this birth control. I just started tearing up over a sort-of compliment. This is ridiculous. I mean, I know I'm a sap, but I'm out of control right now.

♥ If it could be Friday when I wake up tomorrow, that would be fantastic.

♥ I'm working on a new story idea and I like it so far. It's all in my head though, I haven't started writing. Which means I'll get through 20 pages and then burn out.

♥ I hit my head in the pool on Saturday. Then Sunday I hit it on the freezer door. And a couple hours ago? Definitely banged the crap out of it on my car. I fail.

♥ 635 days until I graduate. Not that I'm counting.

♥ Oh, and yea....you can like me, too. All the cool kids are doing it!


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As always, go check out Keely for more Random Tuesday Thoughts!

RTT: On being a pansy, but also a badass

• A friend of mine posted this video on Facebook today. I'll admit it, I definitely shed some tears over it at work. It's silly and stupid but it reminds me of high school and watching that movie with good friends and singing that song in my first car, driving around at night and dreaming of a day when I'd find a love like that.

• I try to come off as a badass. I'm a fairly confident woman. I'm independent and fiercely stubborn. If you've been reading me for any length of time, you've seen this. But shit like this? Kills me.

• I think I put all my energy and emotion into songs, and movies, and TV shows, and books, and save nothing for real life. After spending the first twenty-five years or so of my life crying over everything, I'm pretty much done with that.

• That's not to say that I'm a heartless bitch now. I just don't wear my heart out on my sleeve so much anymore.

• But if y'all could actually know everything going on in this messed up little mind of mine? Whew. Let's just say I'm glad you can't.

• Obviously there are a few people who can read me no matter what. My sister is one of them. As is my momma.

• They've also known me twenty-eight years. It's the people who've known me much, much less that worry me. They're the ones who can hurt me. There are a few I can trust not to - those soul friends who are more like family - but it's those people who you've only just met that can really twist a knife in your back.

• Yet lately, I seem to be letting more and more of those people into my life. There are a couple in particular that stick out. And I hope that my gut reaction of trusting them doesn't lead to me getting hurt.

• There's a quote from Grey's Anatomy I love that relates to this: "Intimacy is a four syllable word for, "Here's my heart and soul, please grind them into hamburger, and enjoy." It's both desired, and feared. Difficult to live with, and impossible to live without."

• That pretty much sums it up.

• And hey - speaking of my sister, why not like her on Facebook? If you like me, you'll love her!


• Oh, and yea....you can like me, too. All the cool kids are doing it!
 
• Bonus - my high school reunion was a couple weekends ago. I talked about it here, a little. Because I know you all love to see pictures, here is one of me all dolled up!

Don't I clean up nice?

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As always, go check out Keely for more Random Tuesday Thoughts!

Spin Cycle: Yes, I have been married before...

The first time I got proposed to, I was four.

His name was Nick, and he was the dreamiest boy in my preschool class.

We got married one sunny day with a mutual friend presiding. He promised to always let me have the good crayons when we colored, and I swore that he could always be the blue piece in Candyland. We shared a piece of Bazooka to consummate the marriage.

Wedded bliss came easy to us. We sat next to each other during circle time, built our home together out of cardboard bricks, and he always let me use the good shovel in the sandbox. Life was perfect – we were young, and happy, and in love. Nothing could keep us apart.

Except for kindergarten. Our romance ended the way many do – time and distance were just too much.

The second time I got proposed to, it was third grade. His name was Jon, he lived down the street, and one day, we were climbing trees in the field in our subdivision, and he said, “I’m going to marry you someday.”

I told him I didn’t need a boy – that I could do anything he could do, and that I could take care of myself. Then I proved my point by climbing higher than he could in the tree, jumping down faster, and beating him back to our bikes.

He didn’t get it.

Later that day he brought me a plastic ring (the kind that you could shoot water out of) and a bouquet of daisies and dandelions.

I broke that poor boy’s heart that day.

Yes, even at the precocious age of eight, I knew that the friendship we had just wasn’t enough. I wanted more.

In the two decades since then, I’ve had several more proposals. Most joking, a couple quasi-serious, and one that left me dumbfounded.

But at the end of the day, I stand by my independent and stubborn eight-year-old self: I want more.

More than just friendship. More than just fireworks. More than security. I want it all.

Maybe I’ll never find that. Maybe I’ll just be crazy Aunt Andrea for the rest of my life. I’m okay with that. I might not be climbing trees anytime soon, but I can still take care of myself. And if there’s something I can’t do for some reason, I have the means to hire someone else to do it for me. I’m the same girl I was twenty years ago, just older and wiser and if anything, more stubborn than I was then.

But if someone gets through? If I have my first honest-to-god, serious proposal one day? If a man gets through the layers of pigheadedness and protection and still wants to spend the rest of his life with me?

That’s when the string of proposals will end. Because when I say yes (and not as a toddler), it’ll mean forever.

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 Check out other spins by visiting the lovely and amazing Jen* at Sprite's Keeper.

 *May not be an accurate photograph. SK Jen is way hotter <3

 

Another year older, another year wiser?

Well, it's official. I'm twenty-eight and the same age as my mother (although she has thirty years of experience behind her as well).

Looking back at the last year, I can only hope that twenty-eight goes better than twenty-seven did.

Don't get me wrong. I am a much stronger person than I was at this time last year. I've made it through some rough patches and done a fairly good job of it. I am more confident, happier, smarter....

But looking back....I did A LOT of stupid things this past year. I mean, a lot. I put myself in situations that I never would have imagined myself in before. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of. I let myself be fairly hedonistic and didn't think twice about over-consuming in any of the tempting areas I found myself. And while I had some great times, I also had way too many moments of regret.

I've learned from the mistakes. Yet I repeat them over and over again. This past weekend is a prime example - I acted without thinking and made some choices that I, once again, am finding myself regretting. I can't take it back and I can't dwell on it, so I've come up with a new plan: REALLY learn from it. I won't beat myself up over anything I've done - good or bad, they were my choices - but I will remember how I feel right now, and how I made other people feel, and I will remember that sometimes it pays to take a step back and look at the big picture.

So, twenty-seven? Went out with a bang.Twenty-eight? I expect to be a much more gentle ride. I'm looking forward to it.

Thinking randomly on a Tuesday...

☼ I have been having a lot of dreams set in my parents' old house lately. Very strange.

☼ My 10-year reunion is this coming Saturday. I got a new dress, and it isn't black, which is kind of a miracle. I'm sure I'll have some pictures of me and my friends lookin' gorgeous on Sunday, so I'll try to remember to post them :-)

☼ My birthday is next Monday! 28. Crazy how different my life is now than what I thought it would be. I have to say, I'm glad I'm not married with children as I always assumed I would be at this age.

☼ I have asked my Magic 8 Ball the same question every day for a week now. And every day it answers in the affirmative. That makes me happy. Not like I actually believe that it's seriously predicting the future, but it's nice to dream :-)

☼ Last week was the first week I haven't worked overtime since sometime in April. It's been nice being busy cause the time is flying, but it was also nice not having to work this weekend.

☼ My momma and daddy are getting into town on Friday!!! I haven't seen them since my birthday week last year, so I am very very excited. Even if I am going to be insanely busy.

☼ Part of the insanity? I just picked up another Sunday softball league. This one lasts through 8/15. My next team starts 8/8. I am hoping for no game time overlap. With at least an hour between games, since they are in different cities. I'm crazy.

☼ Speaking of softball, I took a line drive in the arm two weeks ago playing second base. It hurt.

I wish I had taken a picture of it after a few days. The bruise extended all the way up my arm, on both sides. I still have bruising and it actually still hurts a bit, two weeks later.

☼ Hoping I don't get any more disfiguring injuries this year.

☼ Also hoping work stays a little less crazy for a while. I don't think I can handle anymore crazy stress.

☼ It's been great for my diet though. Down 27 lbs now! WIN!

☼ As always, click the link up top to visit Keely, and find other random thinkers :-)

I need more spoons*....(an anniversary, of sorts)

It's hard to believe, but this month marks five years since I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis.

Five years of daily challenges. Five years of almost constant exhaustion and pain. Five years of never having enough spoons. Five years of pushing myself more and more. Five years of finding out who will always be on my side. Five years of fear and worry. Five years of working with the Arthritis Foundation and meeting some truly amazing people. Five years of bad nights of sleep and worse mornings. Five years of realizing how much strength I have inside of me.

Five years. It seems like a million. It's hard to remember not being sick, not having a chronic condition that forces me to slow down.

Five years of give and take. Of every choice I make during the day having a bearing on what I can do later on. Of making trades - I can go out this night, but the next I need to be in bed at 9. I can play softball two nights a week, but then I need to rest for two days. I can go grocery shopping today, but I can't cook until tomorrow.

Of course, not every day is like this. Some days I have more energy than others. Some days, it's easy to forget that I'm sick. And to look at me, most people wouldn't guess that I'm not a typical, healthy 20-something. That's life with an invisible disease - nothing to show the pain you're in, how tired you are, how the meds you just started are making you sick every morning, how you literally roll out of bed in the morning, because you can't bend your knees to stand....

But the people who know you, who see you often - even if they don't know about your illness, even if you've never said anything - they see the signs - the big, scary bags under your eyes. The IcyHot you keep on your desk. The flats you bring to work in case your heels become too much. The slow, hitching walk of someone who is fighting to get through every step. Your friends familiar with your situation will try to understand, but it's impossible. Until you have been in it, you just can't get it. People can usually understand the physical challenges, but the emotional and mental struggles? How can you really describe the frustration of not being able to do simple tasks? How can you put into words how embarrassing it is to have to ask someone to tie your shoes for you, or open a bottle of soda? Sure, you try to laugh it off, try to act like losing control isn't killing you, but it is. And for me, someone who is independent and stubborn to the core? I will make a million jokes before I admit how helpless I feel. I will struggle with something for hours before I admit defeat. And I will hold my head up until I am safely alone before I break down.

But the good things? I've seen the good in a lot of people. I have met amazing people, both online and off, who struggle with RA and Lupus and OA and any number of other autoimmune diseases. I have a great support system, between them, and my amazing family and friends. I have grown up and grown stronger. I've learned to slow down - that everything doesn't always have to be done at warp speed. I've started to take care of myself better.

And I'm ready to take on the next five, and however many come after that. RA, prepare to get your ass kicked.

---------------------------------
*Title comes from The Spoon Theory by Christine Miserandino at But You Don't Look Sick. One of the best things I've seen that tries to explain life with a chronic illness.

Spin Cycle: We've got tonight, who needs tomorrow?

Oh, prom. The poofy dresses (Looking back, I am glad I went with a more classic, simple dress. The fact that it was only $60? Even better). The bad music. The hours of hair and nail appointments. The lack of a proper date (some things never do change...).

It's hard to believe it's been ten years. It's almost enough to make me feel old. That, and the fact that I can barely remember it...I am going senile, apparently.

Things I do remember:

-Bob Seger. Our prom song was We've Got Tonight which is a song I had already loved, and still love to this day. I'm not sure that it was entirely appropriate, since it's about having a one-night stand and knowing it's not going anywhere. I don't mind the sentiment, but really? I am kind of surprised that at a school where we couldn't show bare shoulders for fear that amount of flesh would be distracting, they let that song get chosen.

-My date, Phil. (Yea, I've talked about him here before). He was my default date for dances in high school, and was a pretty good one. Even if he did pull my chair out from under me so I fell down (it was to lighten a somber mood, so I didn't really mind)

-Going to Farmer Jack after prom cause nothing else was open, and stealing a 'Caution: Wet Floor' sign.

-Standing in a giant circle on the dance floor with a good chunk of my class, all singing 'Lean On Me'.

-Dancing with the guy I had a crush on for way too long, since he was really not that amazing.

-Dress shopping with my girls. I think that was actually my favorite part - all trying on dresses at David's Bridal, looking like freaking Easter eggs, but all looking gorgeous.

Annnnnd that's about it. It's funny, because prom is always built up as such a huge event, especially for girls. I remember always thinking that something would happen, something would change - like being dressed up and realizing high school was almost over would make the guy I liked realize he wanted to be with me, and we would dance all night and fall in love and live happily ever after. Instead, we danced and then awkwardly one-arm hugged each other, and went back to our respective dates. I just pictured it as being something more than it was, and once I realized that it wasn't going to be some life-changing event like it always was in movies, I guess I was a little sad. Maybe not sad, maybe that's not the right word....But I was disappointed. And maybe that's when I started to become a little more cynical - because that was when I finally realized that happy endings and fairy tales are all basically bullshit.

I still have my corsage, though. I guess I'm just a sentimental fool about some things (who keeps crap for way too long for no good reason) (I think the one on the left is from Homecoming the year before - also a dance that Phil was my date for. Boy BFFs are the best!)

With the ten-year reunion coming up (and me undecided if I'm actually going to go) I wonder if the event can possibly live up to the expectation - seeing old friends, catching up with out-of-towners, wondering who turned out better than expected and who just completely fell apart.  Facebook has kind of negated the need to do this, which is why I don't know that I'll bother. In movies, the 'cool' kids have all turned out to be losers, and the outsiders are the most successful and the happiest. But I already know that's not totally true, and I really don't need to see evidence of other people's successes when I have so many failures.

Mostly, if I go, I think I'll just, once again, end the night feeling a little bit disappointed, a little bit relieved it's over, and a little bit more certain that there are no happy endings in sight. At least not the stereotypical Hollywood ending, and while I'm not necessarily sad about that, and I am good with my life for the most part, I am a little sad that I've just stopped expecting one. I think back to me at seventeen, and how hopeful and optimistic I was about life and love (and yes, naive) and wonder how I got from there to here. And I wonder if I'll ever look at anything with that wide-eyed enthusiasm again.

I'd give anything to...

At least I come by it honestly....(Happy Mother's Day!)

My mom used to love getting my sister and I to call her "Beautiful Mommie Dearest".

I think that helps explain where my twisted sense of humor comes from.

When I was younger, I didn't see much of my mom in me. I was always shy, and super sensitive. Mom is outgoing, sparkly, a force of nature. I seem to remember being convinced I was adopted at one point, because I felt so different from my family (and also, because I had just read the Babysitter's Club book where Claudia thinks she's adopted...all of you girls of the 80s know what I'm talking about).

But as I grew up and broke out of my shell, I started to see more of her in me. We have the same stubborn streak. We have the same weird sense of humor. We are outgoing and tend to get sucked into whatever it is we are working on. We can both read for hours on end. We have the same smile and the same eyes, although mine have more green in them. And we both enjoy a good margarita and movie night, although it's been a while since we've had one of those.

The only reason I would ever consider moving to Tennessee is to be close to my parents again. It's hard not being around them. I miss my mom so much sometimes....There's no one who knows how to make me laugh like she does, or who can comfort me in quite the same way. I always want to share everything with her, from how work is going to my birthday plans to the newest guy I have fallen hard for. She's always on my side, just happy that I am safe and healthy, even if I have done something fairly (or, let's face it, EXTREMELY) stupid.

I have a lot of 'second' mothers, and I have the best aunties in the world, but nothing compares to a mommy. And mine is the best. And while we haven't always seen eye to eye, we have always loved each other, and we will always bring out both the best and the worst in each other, and really? I couldn't ask for more.

I love you, Momma! Happy Mother's Day!

Me, Momma, and Sara, circa 1985ish

drowning on dry land...

I just woke up from a ridiculous nightmare, and I'm still trying to let myself breathe again. I haven't had a full-on nightmare in a while so this one really freaked me out.

The beginning of it started off normally enough...I was hanging out with some friends, and decided to leave wherever I was to go visit some others. It was close by, so I decided to walk. Well, apparently in my dream, I was terrified of dogs, because I was trying to do some evasive manuevering to get away from it....and somehow I ended up at one of those big play structures, with the big twisty slides, and, like, freaking towers, and obstacles, kind of like this, but times a hundred.

Anyway, so I end up at this place, and one of my friends is there, with her daughter. Her daughter got underneath the structure somehow, and I said I would go under and find her. So I start crawling around under this play structure, and at some point, a couple police officers get there to try and help, because we can't find her. And finally, I see her on the other end of the structure from where I am, and the cops go to get her. Meanwhile, it starts raining, and the sand the thing is sitting on just starts to cover me. And I couldn't move because it was weighing down my arms and legs, and I couldn't yell without it getting in my mouth. So I was banging on the underside of one of the slides, and no one could hear me, and I was freaking out and couldn't breathe and could feel myself getting more and more trapped.

And that is when I woke up, gasping for air and freaked out.

And I am pretty sure I know exactly what this means. I'm looking some of it up on Dream Moods right now, and so far I've been right on. Being buried alive means you are being undermined or stifled in some way. Wet sand equals a lack of balance. Calling for help means you are overwhelmed and inadequate. Playgrounds suggest needing to escape daily responsibilities.

Check. Check. Check. And check.

Right about now, I am really wishing I had the time for a long vacation....

The most beautiful smile is the one that struggles through the tears.

My next tattoo is going to be 'Que sera, sera' in script on my wrist. And it's going to be in memory of my Grandma K, who said that all the time.

Today would be her 92nd birthday.

It's impossible for me to not think about her most of the time, but today especially. There are some people in your life who shape you, who push you, who make you better, and my grandmother was one of those.

Every struggle I've had in my life...every war I've waged, whether it was against myself or others....every thing I've ever tried and failed at and tried again....The part of me that refuses to give up or give in, that refuses to accept limitations, that refuses to surrender...that comes from my grandma. She was a woman who survived anything that came at her. She battled and beat cancer more than once. She stood by her husband and her child and her grandchildren whatever happened. She did everything she could to make sure that her son and his children would have a good life. She looked for the best in people. She looked for the best in life. She was an optimist and she passed that on.

And she was beautiful! In all the ways that mattered, and in many that didn't. She had the kindest eyes I've ever seen. Full of compassion and caring, but with a glint of humor. She was always ready to laugh. Always ready to humor a child by listening to a stammered knock-knock joke, or bumbling story, and laughing her heart out. She could make you feel like the only person in the world she could possibly want to be listening to. She was selfless and funny and generous and loving and big-hearted and a force of nature. She knew when to make you laugh, or when to take you in her arms and comfort you with soft words and hugs. She displayed a stick figure drawing on her refrigerator with the same care as a straight A report card. She would take the time to do whatever it took to make other people happy, whether it was finding the perfect present, or cutting up watermelon into the kind of slices you preferred. She was a great cook and I wish I had cared more when I was younger so I could have learned more from her. I think of all the times I spent at her house, and wish that I had listened a littler harder, paid a little more attention, asked more questions. There is so much I could have discovered, so many things I wish I knew!

Grandma died 5 years ago this past December. It seems like yesterday, and a thousand years ago, all at once. There's not a day of my life that I don't think about her, feel her, discover another part of the influence she had over my life. I was unbelievably blessed to get to spend so much of my time with such an incredible woman. Some of my happiest memories from childhood are the times I spent at my grandparents' house, my sister and I dressing up in stupid outfits, or 'building' things in the backyard, or just sitting at the table coloring with Grandma. She was content with simple pleasures, and the greatest one of those was seeing her son and his children happy and healthy.

It's been over 5 years. And I'm starting to forget some of these things. I'm starting to forget the smile, and the softness, and the easy way she could turn an entire day around. I'm starting to forget the sly look in her eye when she was teasing my grandpa, and the look of her hands as she worked in the kitchen. And that scares me. How could I possibly forget any part of this amazing woman?

But then I look at my dad. And I look at my sister. And I look at myself. And I imagine the sons or daughters I may someday have.
And I realize that no matter how long she has been gone, her legacy will live on. Her touch on our lives will reach into the next generation, and the one after that, and however many come after.

And I know that she'll be looking down on all of us with love in her eyes and a smile that comes from the heart, giving a little push whenever we need it, and being the quiet voice in our heads, reminding us that whatever will be, will be.

RTT makes me sad, because it means I'm still very far away from Friday...

*I've been on a rollercoaster the last month or so and I feel like it's starting to settle down. I'm sorting things out in my life at the moment and trying to figure out who and what I want to be. If there is a handbook out there for this, please, someone, let me know.

*Been feeling lonely lately. Spring. It does that to me. Stupid season. Doesn't it know I'm supposed to be independent and strong? Heh.

*Winter semester is over and I am off school for 4 months. I'd be psyched for all the free time but work is going to take over my life at least until the end of June, so, well...gotta do what I gotta do, I guess.

*I am free!! A week earlier than expected! I haven't really posted about any of this, and I'm sure I will soon, so you can just wait on that...


*Softball season is officially underway. My work team? Kicks ass. We had our first game last night and won 18-6, or something like that. And I made a couple good plays.
My other team? We have room for improvement :-) I have full confidence that we'll do it though. I need to hit the batting cages this week, at least once.

*My elbows are incredibly dry. I think I've become immune to all my usual fixes. Anyone have good lotion recommendations?

*I have a tan. In April. This is unheard of for me. (And yes, my tan is another person's ghostly white, but whatever. I have sensitive alabaster skin. Anything other than translucent, blue, or tomato red is a miracle.)

*Thanks to last week's Glee I am on a Madonna kick. So if you happen to see me, and I happen to burst into 'Express Yourself' or 'Like a Prayer'? Don't say I didn't warn you.

In the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make...

"We accept the love we think we deserve."

That line, from The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky, is one that has stuck with me in the decade since I first read the novel.

There's a lot of truth in the sentiment. We search for someone who makes us happy, who makes us better, who makes us complete. Sometimes, we find that person. Sometimes, that person turns out to be the opposite of who we thought they were. Sometimes they hurt us. Sometimes we let them. Sometimes we put all our energy and heart and soul and faith into a person who has done nothing to earn any of them. Sometimes we cry ourselves to sleep, wondering why we care so much, why we can't just walk away, why this "great love" has turned into something we never thought we would put up with.

I know I'm guilty of it.

There was a time when I took any scrap of affection that was carelessly tossed my way and clung to it with every part of me. When I was so love-starved that I would put up with lies and cheating and selfishness and emotional torture, just so I wouldn't be alone. When I would drive home, sobbing so hard I could barely steer the car, totally unsure what I had done that made me deserve this treatment. Wondering when I became so weak that I would stay with someone who didn't give a damn about me. Wanting to rip my own heart out, because it wasn't doing me any good anyway.

But I always stayed. I always stuck it out. I thought that I couldn't do any better. I thought that this was it. This was what my life would be like. I wasn't pretty enough, or funny enough, or smart enough to have the right to be happy, to have someone who actually loved ME. Not the doormat. Not the caregiver. ME. I got so used to being in a constant state of loneliness, even when I was sleeping next to someone. But I still never thought of leaving that. I just wanted something, even if it wasn't love. Even if it was barely involved. Even if my heart shattered over and over again, while I tried to figure out what to do to make myself better, more deserving, easier to be with...anything to make my screwed-up relationship into something more.

But then, something happened. The last straw. The time I really needed someone to be there, and he wasn't. He couldn't be bothered. There I was, crying and lost and empty, reeling from the loss of one of the most influential people in my life, and he couldn't be bothered to even come up with an "I'm sorry for your loss." I ended up going to a new friend, one I barely knew, who held me and let me cry and suddenly made me realize that I WAS worthy of being cared for, of being loved. That I was a good person, and that while I had my faults, I deserved someone who would drop everything to come pick me up when I couldn't get myself up off the floor.

That was when I knew I had to let go.

Since then, I've been in my fair share of rough relationships. I've been hurt, and my heart is worse for the wear. But I have made it a point to never let things get to the point where I didn't know why I was in it again. And yes, I've made some mistakes and given little pieces of myself away to some people who probably didn't deserve them, but it was always on my own terms.

And now? I'm stronger than ever. I'm more confident. I know who I am, and I know what I deserve. And I am holding out for it. Whether I find it now, or next month, or in twenty years, I'll know that, as the song goes, in the end, the love I'll take will be equal to the love I'll make.

30-Day Challenge: End of the line

I give up. I am not writing about anything else for this. Especially since my sister just posted Day 15, and it's 'Fanfic'.

I am not a fangirl.

So, later today, or maybe tomorrow (but probably Sunday) I will return you to your regularly scheduled erratic blog posts.

G'day.

Day 12: I do what I want

My mind is in all sorts of fucked up places right now.

I'm seeing other people grow up and move on, and it makes me feel...not like a failure...but...like I'm missing something. Like I should be in a better place than I am. Like I should be more of an adult, more stable, more responsible...something. I don't know.

It's not that I particularly want what they have. I don't want to be getting married, or having babies, or buying houses. I like that everything in my life is kind of...temporary.

Maybe *like* isn't the right word. I'm comfortable with it. That's better. I'm comfortable with not being tied down to anything. I'm terrified to put down any kind of roots, anywhere, whether it's a house, or a relationship.

I like only being committed to myself. Everything else in my life is...transitional. If I lose it tomorrow, I'll survive. I'll get through it. I'll move on.

But I wonder....why am I so okay with this? Shouldn't I be looking to settle down? Aren't I getting to the age where it's normal to want to plant yourself down somewhere? Shouldn't I be wanting something real?

Or should I just stop comparing myself to other people, and not putting any stock in whatever milestones signify being a grown up?

Day 11: A photo of you taken recently

This isn't *that* recent, but it's classic Andrea...

Me, rockin' karaoke and Heart's 'Alone'. And no, I do NOT require alcohol to sing. This is my sober (and incredibly exhausted) period.

Cheers, darlins!

Day 10: A photo of you taken over 10 years ago

Today you get two for the price of one!

First off, here is my senior yearbook photo. I love this picture - I actually loved all my senior pictures (except the ones of me in a purple dress - SO not me) but this one is one of my favorites.

And then there's a special treat - for anyone who ever believed that I wasn't always so much of a nerd...well, this will prove them wrong. I can't believe I'm actually posting this. And letting people see it. Instead of destroying the evidence....oi.

This was obviously before I discovered hair product. And contacts. And dressing like a girl.

Day 9: A photo you took

Doubling up today cause I missed a day.

In one of the photo classes I took, we did a self-portrait project. This is my favorite picture of the ones I used. It's an old scan, and not a very good one-eventually I'll need to rescan some of my photography. But I love the picture-the lighting is fantastic, and it just feels like me, you know?

Tomorrow, you get to see maybe the worst picture of me ever taken....and also, one of the best. Photos from over 10 years ago!

Day 8: A picture that makes you angry.

Any Detroit fan would agree - this picture, of our most hated player in the NHL, holding OUR cup? Instant rage.

Day 7: A picture that makes you happy

This picture, to me, is absolute proof that there is real love in the world.

It's what keeps me believing in soul mates, even when outwardly, I'm at my most cynical.

It's why no matter how many times I give up, I throw my hands up and decide that I am done caring, done looking, done hoping....I will always step back, and take a breath, and remember that true love is out there. That it exists, maybe even for me.

My parents at their wedding, September 28, 1979

Because when I look at this picture, and see my parents, radiant and madly in love and so completely happy, I know that someday, if I'm really lucky, I'll find this too. And someday, if I'm really lucky, it'll be my daughter looking at my wedding picture, and realizing that she shouldn't give up hope.

Day 6: I'm an auntie! (free write day)

About a year and a half ago, I posted this: The Groomsman with Ovaries when my best friend Phil got married, and I stood up with him.

Two weeks ago today, he and his wife, Lisa, welcomed their first child.

Parker Graham was born on Thursday, March 25 at 8:01 am. He was 8 lbs, 2 ozs, and 20 inches long.

Look at that kid. How could anyone say he isn't 100% perfect?

So yes. I am an auntie now, and I plan on spoiling my new little sunshine rotten :-)

Day 5: All life is an experiement.

This past Saturday, I was talking to an ex-coworker's older sister about our various relationships, and I said I was due for a good one soon (I still fully believe that).

She's fifteen years older than me, and infinitely wiser. It's nice being able to talk to someone who has so much more life experience than I do, who can help put things in perspective.

She recited this quote to me:

Do not be too timid and squeamish about your actions. All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better. What if they are a little course, and you may get your coat soiled or torn? What if you do fail, and get fairly rolled in the dirt once or twice. Up again, you shall never be so afraid of a tumble. [Ralph Waldo Emerson]

Sometimes, it's hard to remember. Sometimes, it's easy to forget. I get lost in the heartache and the challenges of living, of loving, of losing. I forget that much of the joy comes from the learning. I forget how much stronger I am now than I was six months, a year, two years ago.

And I need the reminder to get up off my ass, dust myself off, and try again.

So thanks to this fantastic woman, I am remembering that it takes trials to make us stronger, and that everything I do is just another opportunity to grow.

And lately, I've needed that. And right now? I fully appreciate her wisdom.

Day 4: Sometimes you find an author and it feels like she writes from your soul....

For me, that author is the incredibly talented Liza Palmer. She has three novels out - Conversations with the Fat Girl, Seeing Me Naked, and A Field Guide to Burying Your Parents.

In the almost 5 years since Conversations came out, I have read it, at minimum, 25 times. The other two aren't far behind. Something about Liza's writing style grips me from page one, and her characters are complex and beautiful. They are flawed yet sympathetic. Confused, but strong. Amazing women who are insecure and loving and powerful and frightened and REAL.

After Seeing Me Naked came out, I emailed Liza to give her some fanmail (cause who doesn't love that?). Here is a part of what I wrote - I can't put in any better than this:

And once again....the characters you write are amazingly complex, sympathetic, and I can see parts of myself in almost all of them.  Even the characters I want to dislike have redeeming qualities, and I find myself wishing them well and with all characters, imagining the great lives they have coming.  I cry with them, laugh at them, and at times, want to sit them down and give them a dose of reality.

Thank you for creating these lovely worlds of people and places, and letting your readers explore them for a while.

For me, letting a talented author know how much I love her work was enough. Imagine my surprise when she not only responded, but made my day when I got her reply:

Okay, so this is officially the awesomest email ever.  Seriously.  What a...lovely, lovely thing (things?) to say.  It has soo made my day.  Just lovely...i can't stop saying lovely-i know more words, i assure you.

I'm working on Book three right now-and this is by far the highlight of my day.

You're awesome--thank you so much.

I also got a signed copy of the UK print of Seeing Me Naked.

Not only does Liza write amazing books, but she cares about her fans. We have definitely had a few Twitter conversations (Billy Squier love!) and she just seems like the most down-to-earth, fun person.

For me, that's icing on the fabulously written cake. Knowing an author is so...human...makes her so much more appealing to read, because it makes all her words feel real.

And I can't wait to read whatever she releases next.

RTT: Things to look forward to...

*Almost two weeks ago, I became Auntie Andrea. No, this is not a child of my older sister, saradoxical, for those of you who know her and would be wondering why she hasn't mentioned it. There's more on this soon - for now, I give you this lovely picture of me and my new nephew:

*My beautiful Mommie Dearest (yes, that is exactly what my sister and I called her until we learned better..) gave me an award. That'll be up soon.

*The entertaining and fabulous Jess also bestowed an award on my unworthy ass. A couple weeks ago, actually. I've been busy. You'll see that in the next few days.

*More posts from the 30-Day writing challenge.

*The semester is coming to an end. Only a couple more weeks. No spring and summer classes this year, so hopefully y'all will be hearing more from me.

*It's been a rough month or two, but things can only get better...right?

Day 3: You just get pictures today

I don't feel good and I don't have much to say. Other than don't judge me for the third one. We all need some eye-candy and mindless entertainment now and then :-)

Day 2: Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken

When I was a kid, without a doubt, my favorite movie was Wild Hearts Can't be Broken.

It was a live-action Disney movie, about a girl, Sonora Webster (played by Gabrielle Anwar who has called Wild Hearts the favorite of her films), who is a runaway during the 1930s. She gets a job as a stable hand for Doc Carver, and his 'diving horses.' She dreams of becoming a diving girl, and eventually gets her break. There is an accident, and it looks like she may never dive again. But hard work and courage pay off, and naturally it ends well. It is Disney, after all.

Throughout the story, Sonora develops a relationship with Doc's son, Al, played by Michael Schoeffling, better known to most children of the 80s as Jake Ryan. This was the first movie I had seen him in (I was 9 - Sixteen Candles was still several years away) and I immediately fell in love. He is the perfect leading man - charming, sensitive, gorgeous, strong, secure. He was probably my first real celebrity crush, and I am still sad that he dropped out of the industry. I would give an arm to see how he looks today - he turns 50 this year and I would bet that he looks amazing still. Sigh. Old crushes die hard.

I think the reason I love this movie so much, still, is that I see a little bit of myself in Sonora. She's a little bit wild, a lot bit stubborn, and she doesn't give up. I like to think that I have those same characteristics. It's an inspiring story without being completely hokey, and there is happiness but also sorrow. This movie, to me, has stood up to time and its classic themes keep me hooked year after year. Recently I discovered Netflix has it on instant movies, so you can bet I'll be watching it incredibly soon.

"I found my destiny, not in far off places but within myself."

Day 1: Who has just ONE favorite song?

For me, music needs to touch me. It needs to make me feel something, good or bad. It needs to hit that spot in my soul that simple words just can't, and connect with me on a level that I don't always get from life in general.

Today, I bring you two of my favorite songs.

The first is Falling Slowly from Once, which is an amazing movie and you all should see.

I find it incredibly beautiful. It's sad and hopeful and uplifting all at once. Sometimes it gets me teary-eyed, sometimes not...but I every time I hear it, I feel my heart fill up.



The second is Just Watch the Fireworks by Jimmy Eat World.

I love the lyric: "Here you can be anything, and I think that scares you" because it is so completely true. That point? Where you are at the edge of getting or being everything you want? It's terrifying. And the point where you can be yourself with someone? When you feel like you can drop all the layers and masks and just be you? Also terrifying.


(Ignore whatever show that is...Smallville? I just wanted a non-live version of the song)

I have a million more songs that I love, and are my "favorites" but they change so frequently it's hard to list them all. What can I say? Years of working in music stores, and many years before that of babysitting at my aunt and uncle's house and making mix tapes from their million CDs, and I am an avid music lover.

Tomorrow - favorite movie. Then and Now!

30-Day Challenge? (Or, beating last year's amount of posts by the middle of April)

I stole this from my lovely and immensely talented big sister, saradoxical.

I'm a couple days late starting, but I will catch up with three in one in a little bit, after I go for a brisk walk/slow run :-)

Look forward to me actually posting this month!
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In an effort to write more in here, I am borrowing this 30 day challenge from various friends on LiveJournal. Starting tomorrow, I shall be blogging on these topics:

Day 01 — Your favorite song
Day 02 — Your favorite movie
Day 03 — Your favorite television program
Day 04 — Your favorite book
Day 05 — Your favorite quote
Day 06 — Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 07 — A photo that makes you happy
Day 08 — A photo that makes you angry/sad
Day 09 — A photo you took
Day 10 — A photo of you taken over ten years ago
Day 11 — A photo of you taken recently
Day 12 — Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 13 — A fictional book
Day 14 — A non-fictional book
Day 15 — A fanfic
Day 16 — A song that makes you cry (or nearly)
Day 17 — An art piece (painting, drawing, sculpture, etc.)
Day 18 — Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 19 — A talent of yours
Day 20 — A hobby of yours
Day 21 — A recipe
Day 22 — A website
Day 23 — A YouTube video
Day 24 — Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 25 — Your day, in great detail
Day 26 — Your week, in great detail
Day 27 — This month, in great detail
Day 28 — This year, in great detail
Day 29 — Hopes, dreams and plans for the next 365 days
Day 30 — Whatever tickles your fancy

I'll give you the best of me, but you won't see the rest of me....

So, what better way to end a blogging dry spell than by jumping into the Spin Cycle? This week, Jen over at Sprite's Keeper asked us to pick out our favorite blog, and repost that.

Well, I don't have just one. So I'm rebelling. And these aren't necessarily my favorites, but ones that have some kind of meaning to me, or tell you the most about who I am. And I'm just posting a link, and a couple lines about why you should read it. I've picked up a few new readers recently (until I disappeared for weeks, probably) so this is as good an intro to the crazy but wonderful but terrible but entertaining world of Andrea.

Here goes....

"No, those are NOT my Magnum condoms...."
One of my most popular posts - it's how several people found me, after it was featured on Good Mom/Bad Mom. Reading back over it now, I still crack up. And turn red. This story has made the rounds, including at my work. Some things can really only happen to me....

So yes, been there. Done that. Laughed about it afterwards. Sometimes for years, because some of those stories just won't die....

But until tonight, I have never know true mortification.

"Crawling in the Dark"
My struggles, living with a chronic, painful illness. It's a side of me that I try not to show all that often - who wants people knowing they have weaknesses? But to know me is to know this, so here it is.

In the three years since then, I have been to the doctor more times than I care to count. I have had more blood drawn than seems humanly possible, and spent far too much money on medication and Icy-Hot. Not quite what I imagined my life would be like at 26.
I have been lucky.

"my first spin cycle"
This is getting posted only cause it's the first, and I just saw it. The topic was 'poetry' and I was apparently feeling quite angsty. In haiku form.

bitter.
three small words break me
again, pieces in your hands.
yea, well, fuck you too
(how can i still miss you?)

"and this is why i will never settle for anything less than everything"
My parents were celebrating their 30th anniversary. Of their engagement. It reminded me how lucky I was to have them, and their example. I can't say enough good things about my parents. I love them in ridiculous amounts.

Yes, my parents are that couple....The couple that if you are a stranger walking behind them at the grocery store, you will undoubtedly notice the way that when they are walking side-by-side, their hands just automatically find each other.

"The best I can give you is the worst part of me"
This was actually what I posted for my 'worst' blog as a spin cycle last summer. And part of why I had chosen it was because I was letting my guard down - which is exactly why I'm posting it now.

I AM genuinely happy for all the people I care about, but it just reminds me of my failures. And my failures? Not something I want the world to see. In this post, it's just me, being honest, and putting my heart out there for everyone to explore. And losing my usual cover of strength and independence? Scary.

"I barely have the breath to breathe"
Another honest post. It's odd that I will say anything here, but in real life? I hide it all.

Have you ever woken up one morning and wondered where the hell you were?

I’m not talking about that sinking feeling in your stomach you get after a one-night stand,
where you literally have no idea where you are, although that is part of this--I’m talking
about that sinking feeling in your soul when you suddenly realize you have no idea how your life got to this point.

"A letter to me, age 17"
Another Spin Cycle post - this was a free spin and I got it into my head that I should write a letter to myself, ten years ago. It's a favorite because I honestly wish I could go back in time and share this with her.

You aren't getting married in the next ten years anyway, and looking back, you'll realize that you should've just slept with him and at least had your first time mean something, instead of waking up after a night of heavy drinking on an air mattress after losing it to some guy you just met. (FYI - This might still happen. In that case, there IS a house alarm, and sneaking off at 6.30am? Won't work.)

"Hell yea, I have someone I love this Valentine's Day"
Yet another Spin Cycle. Jen makes me write better, apparently :-) I love this one, because it reminds me of how far I've come.

This year though? I'm forgetting about the past. This year, I am dedicating the day to myself, and reminding myself why I love who I am. I am celebrating me, and I'm gonna buy myself some flowers, and I am going to remember that I do just fine on my own, thank you very much...