I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name

I'm making plans. Lots and lots of plans.

Career-changing plans. Pick-up-my-life-and-move-600-miles-away plans. Life-changing plans. Terrifying, exhilarating plans.

I've lived my whole life in the Detroit area. It's what I know. It's comfortable. I have family here. God knows I have friends here. My *history* is here.

So why am I skipping out on everything, and moving to Nashville?

Of course, a big part of it is my parents. And my sister. And my grandpa. They live in Tennessee, a little more than an hour east of Nashville. Being so far away from them now is awful. I hate that I don't get to see them more than a few times a year.

Part of it is my job. I like my job. And I'm good at it. But this isn't what I thought I would be doing for the rest of my life. Even when I went back to school with the intent of advancing in the company, I didn't know if I was doing it because I loved my job, or if I loved the company. As much as I enjoy the place I work and the people I work with, I can't see myself staying happy here. It feels like settling for something I never thought I'd do for too long, when there are a million other things I'd rather take a chance at.

And then there's the part of me that just wants the adventure...I've always saw myself moving somewhere else, and I'm at the point in my life where if I don't do it now, I won't do it ever. Better to pack up my life and start it fresh while I'm young, and single, and have nothing tying me down to Michigan.

I'm incredibly excited for this new chapter in my life to start. I can't wait to find new places, meet new people, build a new life from scratch.

But damn if I'm not terrified.

What if I get there and hate it? What if I find a job and can't stand it? What if the new friends I make can't compare to the ones I have now? What if the people I have in my life, the people I love dearly, forget about me when I'm 9 hours away?

What if I fail?

I could make myself crazy with the hundreds of "What ifs?" going through my head.

But I would make myself crazier if I didn't allow myself to take this chance.

There's something magical about a second chance. Of starting over where no one knows me...no one knows my history, my mistakes, my regrets. No one knows the things I've done to hurt people, or the people who have torn me to shreds. It's a chance to become someone completely different...or to improve on the person I already am.

And for all the worries, all the fear...there's so much more hope. And promise.

Not only will I be someone with no history, but all the people I meet? They'll be strangers - not people I've grown up with, not people I've worked with, not people who I have seen through all sorts of phases and pieces of their lives.

When I walk into a room, I won't be the girl who runs into walls all the time and trips over nothing (although god knows they'll see that in time). I won't be the girl who makes bad choice after bad choice. I won't be the girl who is outgoing and happy all the time. I won't have to be what people expect of me anymore, because no one will expect anything.

There's something freeing about a second chance.

I'll miss the people who really know me...The people who I trust, the people who I would call crying at 3am, the people who I could sit and watch movies and drink wine and laugh for hours with. I'll miss the people who know what I'm thinking just by the look in my eyes, the way my mouth twitches, the way my eyebrow raises slightly.

I'll miss getting in my car and driving to a friend's house without having to think about where I'm going. I'll miss the bars where they know my name. I'll miss the restaurant where I don't even have to say my order out loud.

I'll miss being able to drive by my grandparents' old houses, remembering where I came from. I'll miss the late night drives up and down roads I've been down so many times before. I'll miss the section of road I drive down that all at once calms me, and frees me, and gives me peace.

There's something heartbreaking about a second chance.

There's a lot of reasons to stay, but just as many to leave. And I think I owe it to myself to just let myself leap.

It's bittersweet, to be sure, but it's what I have to do. And while I will miss what I'm leaving, I look forward to all the possibilities I'll be gaining.

I'm terrified. I'm exhilarated. I'm nervous. I'm contemplative.

But the one thing I'm not is settling.

And that's all the encouragement I need to know that this is the right choice.

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree....(Happy birthday, Momma!!)

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.


I am blessed in that my momma is also one of my best friends. I think that happened once I moved out of the house. It's a lot easier to talk about problems and boys and work and the latest boneheaded thing I did when I don't need to worry about being grounded because of it! Also, when there are two people so similar (especially with that stubbornness...), it's better for everyone else if they aren't in close quarters all the time - because when we clash? EVERYONE knows it.

She knows when I'm lying. Whether it's lying about where I was or who I was with or if I am doing okay or if I am trying to choke back tears on the phone, she always can tell. And she will NOT hold back on telling me the business. She knows how to give tough love, and while at times when I was younger I hated it, now I know it's exactly what I needed then, and it's still what I need now. And while I am sure I screamed at her much more than she deserved how much I "hated" her, and how she was "RUINING MY LIFE!", she managed to make it through my teenage years without locking me in a closet, instead displaying infinitely more patience and love than I deserved at the time. Now I can look back on those times and realize that she just wanted what any good parent wants for their child - the best world has to offer. And if she had to push me to get it, that's exactly what she did. I resented it then, but I wouldn't be the independent, strong, and resilient woman I am today without that. And I will always be grateful for that.


The only reason I would ever consider moving to Tennessee is to be close to my parents (and sister!) 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. When my best friend moved to California, after I left her house the last time, I went straight to my parents' and cried on my mom's shoulder. When I was nervous about a first date with someone I wasn't quite sure about, she talked me down over email. 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 [redacted] annual 28th birthday!
(You think I'd give her actual age? I'd like to live to see my next birthday myself!)

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.
************************
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.