my breakthrough

i'm going to keep this relatively short, because i have so much on my mind i feel like it could turn into a neverending story. this weekend was so full of people i adore, love, missed, and didn't even realize i missed. i donated to a good cause, rekindled an important friendship, stayed up late, got up early, met up with a friend i haven't seen in almost twenty years, and finished with this blog post. what this all means is that i'm capable of changing my ways and what i look forward to.

i'd rather be working for a paycheck than waiting to win the lottery

It's kind of funny how surprised I get when people are good. I really try to see the good in people daily, even if they seem like bastard covered bastards with bastard filling to quote my favorite show, Scrubs. To see people for who they are on the outside in those brief encounters is easy. For some reason I'm unable to accept that there isn't more depth to it. Lately it's been a stream of unconscious narcissism pummeling toward me forcing me to dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge the negativity. 

In those rare moments when I connect with a person and we can share a laugh or a smile, I am grateful for my ability to see past the mundane and actually be humanistic. I think a lot of us, and I am guilty of this as well, get caught up in titles and we forget that we are human. I believe in going a little above and beyond to make people feel a little more comfortable and respected. As difficult as it is to change someone's perception of a situation, I try. And quite often I will succeed. 

The thing about me is I'm so damn empathetic I sometimes get myself in trouble. When you open yourself up to people you're taking a chance and sometimes it gets thrown back in your face. On those occasions where another person is just as willing to open up a little, it makes you feel like what you're doing is worth it. When I talk about "opening up" it's a very subtle difference. It happens within seconds but you can almost feel the air change. It's that moment you can get a smile from a crotchety old man who is grumpy as the day is long, just by remembering he's someone's grandfather, and treat him like you would if he was your own. (always in my heart) Or the time you share a laugh with the high and mighty woman who condescends just about anyone she comes in contact with because you crack a joke and she realizes you're harmless. 

My mom likes to tell me you're unexpected. I'd love for her to share her full interpretation, but all I have is how she explained it to me when I responded what the hell does that mean? First of all, every mother is going to tell you you're beautiful, and when she does, take the compliment because sometimes a compliment from your mom is the only one you'll get for a week, and she really does mean it. The strangely packaged compliment came from my mom when we were couch shopping for my apartment right after I'd launched myself onto an extremely bouncy loveseat. A nearby (quite handsome) salesman laughed with my mom because my face showed I thought what I'd done was completely normal. She said that people tend to think of me one way because of my look (which I have yet to really understand), but my personality is the unexpected part. I guess she's trying to say people expect me to act a certain way but somehow I am completely different that their preconceived notions. I like it. Who wants to be predictable?

*This post comes from a sleepy headed (even though it's 3pm) girl who works hard but laughs harder. It may not be completely coherent (my brain is wonky today) but it's real. I hope to not let another two months go by before I post again. 

to be patient

it's a difficult thing
when the puzzle pieces fit
for everyone else
and i'm stuck
and old habits
die hard

but there's hope
always hope
yet it throws me for a loop
when maybe what i need
is so far
so damn far
yet so very close

to be patient
is a lesson
disguised as a gift
i want desperately
to tear into
it will never be easy
but it will be worth
every
single
moment
when it turns out
life isn't such a puzzle
anymore.

keep moving forward

i'ts february. my skin is dry, i've developed cabin fever, and snow is falling for the third hour. this winter has been particularly cruel, in my opinion. not simply weather-wise, but it's the kind of feeling when you just need to feel sun on your skin and it's gloomy on your only day off. i feel like my synapses have been realigned and i'm learning to use my brain again. i've been in quite the fog for several months, and it's only begun to lift. after this winter storm there are only a couple weeks left of february, the longest short month, and march is the homestretch for spring. 

i can't wait to open up the windows, air this place out, and really continue to make it my own. i'm taking the newness of spring and running with it for as long as i can. i will make changes in my life that are far overdue, and i will feel more hopeful about my future. if only i can keep this dream up until that one morning you wake up and smell spring. you know the smell. i've fought this winter tooth and nail and it's winning the battle over my motivation. i've just got to weather the, well, weather until i feel that wonderful sun. 

this essential moment came to me recently. it was sort of an out-of-body experience. it was the moment i realized i'm finally me. i've found who i am. i don't mean style, where i live, or my job. i mean who i am intrinsically, and i have this wonderful feeling about spring this year. the last few weeks of winter will be spent "sharpening my tools" so to speak, because i plan to shine bright.

resolutions.

I rang in the 2012 new year by myself, on my parent's couch, probably with a dog, watching television. Don't be fooled, though, it's probably exactly what I wanted to do. My New Year's resolution was to stop texting and driving. I'm continually one of the worst offenders. I really need to stop that.

 Mid-month I lost a very dear friend, companion, and family member, our dog Jake. I cried for days. My heart hurt so bad I could have sworn it was literally tearing. We all mourned in our separate ways, and eventually were ready to welcome a new member of the family. Cooper, the littlest Boyken, came into our lives, and in his very adorable and quirky way, he won us all over and home felt warm again. Even mopey Marley came back around. I was only around for Cooper's puppyhood for about a month before I moved to Milltown. May 1, 2012 Logan, the cat I adopted from a friend, and I started living with my serious boyfriend.  It was fun, adorable, loving, aggravating, convenient, and eventually over. We broke up in the parking lot of a mall on a summer day. A weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I wasn't ready for all of the things I was doing. I'd never had my own space, my own time. I needed to know I could do it on my own before I share my life with someone. I moved back home three months after I moved out. 

My furniture remained in the garage as a reminder to myself to not get too comfortable here. I knew I was ready to live on my own, I just needed to regroup and restart. I needed a little pick-me-up from my family. That's exactly what I got. My parents were wonderful, as usual, and the three of us worked as a team to find a place for me and the aforementioned Logan. In September, I had a key to my new apartment. It was magical. My family and I started to work on the apartment until all of our worlds simultaneously collapsed. 

September 16, 2012. Picking up my sister at her apartment in Pennsylvania to see my dear friend's art show in Doylestown. Our plans come to a halt when twenty minutes later we are sitting in a hospital fighting the possibility of the worst case scenerio. Uncle Bob and Edie, Kelly and I clutching Nan, the doctor comes in and says the words no one is ever prepared to hear in a setting such as that, "He's not going to make it." All at once the room blurred and I can't remember a few seconds after those words. The world kind of swirled and slowed, and voices sounded like when you're coming out of anesthesia and you don't know where the fuck you are. I started to just say "no" over and over and over until Nan gave a comforting "shhh" and the three of us just sat, huddled, trying to process. My mom wasn't there yet. No one wanted to call her because she was driving. I wasn't prepared to see her heart break in front of my eyes. It was just as painful as I could have imagined. The days following the death of my wonderful, wise, loving, compassionate, patient, humble Pop-pop were blank. Empty. Quiet. Work was barely a distraction, but it was better than nothing. 

September 21, 2012 an honorable military funeral was held for Pop in Pennsylvania. The whole family gathered, wept, remembered, held each other. I think it was the first time we were all together in a very, very long time. The guards were amazing, TAPS was heart wrenching, and it was far more than Pop would have wanted, but it's what we all needed. It was perfect. The rest of the day was spent with family, food, and memories. Lots and lots of memories. Alexa, my cousin Lizz's daughter who I refer to as my niece, distracted me by being a kid, being outside and in the sunshine and laughing at the little things. 

There are certain people in my family who I'd give my everything for, and Lizz and Alexa are on that list. Spending those days in Cape May with them was wonderful. I think it's from that trip that Alexa really got to know us enough to remember us. It was amazing watching her figure things out, and figure people out. Those days at the beach with some of the closest members of my family was a gift and a great vacation from real life. 

After complete devastation came strength. There were moments that I knew Pop was with me. Having a frustrating day, can barely get myself out the door in the morning, I open my car door and there was a breeze and what Pop always called "noses" came floating down in front of me. "Noses" are actually Maple tree seed pods, and when you throw them in the air, or they're already falling, they whirl around like a helicopter until they land. My whole life I never knew what those things were actually called, I had to look it up. To me they were just noses. After a bit I decided to be excited about my new apartment. It was mine and I could do what I wanted with it. Paint, blinds, anger at the landlord, and an entertaining Ikea trip later, I moved in. There have been improvements here and there when I have extra money, but it's become home. 

The holidays came and went in a blur, but they were lovely. This year it was a Christmas from the heart. I chose to tell my family how much they mean to me instead of figuring out what they could want for Christmas. I thought writer's block was eminent, but the words just came. After recent events, I knew these three people, my dad, my mom, and my sister needed to hear from the normally restrained me. Little did I know, I needed them to know what was in my heart too. 

So here is 2013 and with it brings change, as usual. A New Year means new resolutions. New promises to keep to yourself and those around you. Maybe you're resolving to get in shape, or be more patient, or stop drinking like a fish. This year I won't be joining you. I started to change and grow in meaningful ways within the past few months and I want to continue forward without a demarcation line. I welcome 2013 with open arms and an open heart because it is a continuation of a year that has knocked me down, kicked me when I was down, then picked me back up and it should be remembered.