I hung out in Ben’s room tonight for a few hours, and as I walked up the stairs to my upstairs bedroom, a conversation we had had over a year ago made me smile. I’d go to visit him probably every other weekend, and the other weekends he’d be home and we’d spend those together too. I’d be packing up my stuff Sunday night (usually much later than i had planned) and we’d say: “Isn’t it going to be great when we live together and you can just be like, ‘See ya!’ and go up to your room?” “Yeah, and I won’t have to drive all the way home!”

~~~

As I plodded up the stairs, not only did I smile, thinking ‘Yeah, this is great, past selves’ but then I had a bit of a stomach churn. This time with my friends, my roommates, the people who have become my little family isn’t going to last forever. Already I can feel the day we part ways breathing down my neck.

~~~

I thrive off of my relationships, and I hope that these friends will stay close. I know some of us may move on to bigger and better towns, jobs hopefully, and start new lives. Does it make me weak to want to be a part of that? To keep this family a family for the rest of our lives? I don’t want to lose these people like I’ve lost other friends. These friends are different. I wish my DeKalb family all the success in the world, and at the same time, I silently pray that their futures include me, and mine them.

~~~

A new school year starts soon. New classes, the impending doom of having to face REALLY looking into grad school. Maybe I’m holding off because I don’t want more change. Change is constant and a big bear in my life. But I’ve survived it, and life has moved on. This time, though, I’ve got some things I refuse to lose. Perhaps I am more co-dependent than I lead on…

~~~

I wonder if everyone feels the same intensity that I do, about making a strong effort to stay together in some way. Or will I be left reminiscing by myself? Only time can tell, and like all things, it too shall pass, and we’ll just have to wait and see and in the mean time, overstay our welcomes on each others beds late into the night.

1.      Taking my mom to see Celine Dion in concert in Milwaukee. I remember Celine coming out onto stage for the first time, and with tears welling up in my eyes, I looked over at my mom and saw her grinning like a fool with tears in her eyes too. I don’t know what it was, but we were just so overtaken with emotion. I felt really close to my mom in that moment. We were extremely excited and moved by her performance. We had seats way up in the nose bleeds, but it was one of the best experiences ever.

 ~

2.      When I was 12 years old, my mom took me and my best friend heather to see Hanson in Chicago at the B96 Halloween Bash in October of 1997. It was my first concert ever. Again, we had seats 3 rows from the very last and highest seats from the very tip top of the Rosemont Horizon. Heather and I spent the whole show screaming and crying, completely overwhelmed by the experience, not even caring we had quite possibly the worst seats ever. It was my first taste of live music. Little did I know, it was just the beginning.

 ~

3.      “Hanson Day”.  I think I was in 7^th grade. So probably May 6^th, 1998. Heather and I wrote on our arms and hands words associated with Hanson like ‘Happy Hanson Day’ and ‘MMMBop!’. We were so young and so proud! Not halfway through the day, we were made to wash it off by teachers and the principle. We were reprimanded pretty harshly. We both ended up in tears. Somehow, my mom found out about it before I had even gotten home. The whole day I felt ashamed for the first time of being passionate about something I loved. Yet, when I arrived home, I walked into my bedroom, and my mom had set up a little walkway of streamers leading up to a little table she had set up in the middle of the room with a little coconut cake (my favorite!) and two bottles of Pepsi (my favorite!) with a picture of Hanson on the table and a little sign that said ‘Happy Hanson Day!’. I knew right then and there… Mom understood.

~

4.      The ‘Nutcracker’ surprise that my mom and Aunt Debbie created for me in the 3^rd grade. I got pulled out of school early one day because I had a “dentist appointment”. However, instead of taking me to the dentist, mom brought me home. When we pulled into the drive way, she gave me a card, explaining that there was a big surprise happening for my birthday that night, and that I couldn’t ask any questions. My birthday was at least a few weeks away, so it was a huge surprise. She proceeded to take me inside, let me take a really awesome bubble bath, and blow dried my hair into a silky golden mane, complete with a gold headband. She brought me into her room where a brand new dress was laid out. After I got dressed and finished getting ready, we drove to a McDonald’s a ways away from home (my sense of time and direction then was very poor…). I remember being VERY confused as to why the heck I dressed up to go THERE! We waited there for a few minutes, when suddenly, my Aunt Debbie showed up! She lived about 3 hours away, so I was very excited (and confused) to see her. Mom put a little suitcase into my aunt’s trunk and I was whisked away to a very big city! I was so amazed by the big skyscrapers! My aunt asked me if I knew where we were. “New York City?” I asked, wide eyed. She laughed. We were in Milwaukee… Ha. We ate dinner and then went to a huge theater. We ended up seeing the Nutcracker Ballet. It was phenomenal. I remember when we were riding in the elevator up to our seats, and an old woman made a comment about how my hair matched my headband, and how beautiful it was. I felt like the prettiest girl in the world.

~

5.      Sitting with my Grandma Fran at her kitchen table, talking about why we cry all the time. She told me she cries most when good things happen to her, when people are kind, and when life is overwhelming, in a positive, uplifting way. She talked about how blessed she felt. It is my favorite memory with my grandma.

~

6.      Standing on the shore of and swimming with my brother in Tenaya Lake in Yosemite. It was the first time in my life that simply looking at nature made me cry. It was so overwhelming beautiful.

 ~

7.      The entire trip to Yosemite was just absolutely incredible, but despite the Tenaya Lake visit, seeing the huge trees, swimming in the mountainside lakes and rivers, horseback riding, among a million other amazing experiences, the best parts were the nights my father, brother, and I spent on the balcony each night, cooking dinner together, having a few cocktails, and talking until late into the night. I don’t remember laughing so hard. One night we planned in detail where we would go the following day. We wrote a precise schedule, including dinner options with phone numbers of the places, approximate time frames, driving distances, and closely looking at the map to find the most efficient way of travelling. We were so proud of that schedule. I also remember how we kept running into one side of the glass patio door, so we made a ‘sign’ out of a paper towel, hung by a suction cup dart, so we would remember that it was there. Oh, and the night we cooked and ate the best damn corn of our lives. WOW. We made so many amazing memories on that little balcony. It was those nights that made that trip so special.

~

8.      The day my brother, dad, and I ‘scrambled’ at the Red Rock Canyon, in Las Vegas. Again, we laughed so damn hard that day.

 ~

9.      I can’t place a specific time or game in particular, but I distinctly remember sitting next to my dad at Lambeau field, listening intently as he explained to me the rules of football. I learned about penalties and what downs meant. Even today, I learn new things every game. It’s why I love the Packers so much. It’s something that has brought my dad and I together.

 ~

10.  When I was 7, I had surgery. I was in the hospital for at least a week. It was the hardest and scariest thing I ever went through. Yet, I was never ever alone. Mom stayed with me every single moment. Thinking back on it now, I know that even though Dad wasn’t there with me at the hospital as much as Mom, he was working hard to make sure we could afford what I’m sure was a very expensive procedure. I’m assuming that without his hard work, we wouldn’t have had the insurance to cover it either. I do know that his boss sent me a big bunny rabbit stuffed animal. That tells me that Dad was talking to everyone about how his little girl was in the hospital.

~

I have to take the time to remember these moments, which are just a few among many. They remind me that there are people in my life (even those not specifically mentioned in these particular memories) that love me, and have provided me with a blessed life. Most of all, they remind me that my parents love me. They have provided me with so many experiences that I cannot begin to thank them for. They are there for me, supporting me both financially and emotionally. I owe everything I am, everything I have, and everything I’ve done, to them. Our family hasn’t always had a smooth ride. There have been hurt feelings, fights, broken hearts, and misunderstandings, difficulty forgiving, forgetting, and dealing with what we’ve gone through. I hope that they know, despite it all, I know I was loved, fiercely. I know I am still loved just as much today and every single day into the future. Thank you, Mom and Dad, for everything. I get both my weaknesses and strengths from you, from what you’ve taught me, from who you’ve raised me to be. I can only hope that I make you proud, and that you feel my gratitude and my returning love just as much I as I feel yours. I love you both, very, very much.

I love reading, but during the semester the only pages I usually flip are of textbooks and powerpoint printouts and notebooks. Had to do a book report for the first time in ages for my FCNS class on Child Abuse and Neglect. Despite that class being chock full of writing and this report was roughly 10 pages, I ended up being happy to finally read something more novel-esque. I plan on reading the rest of the House of Night series (because it’s far from the intellectual readings I’ve had of late), Looking for Alaska, and possibly Bridget Jones’ Diary (as my lovely bestie Marilyn gave me my very own used copy!). I also really want to read the Picture of Dorian Gray. I may throw that in between my HON “snack” books. I call them that because they really are just mind snacks in comparison to hearty meal like Dorian Gray. Anyone else looking forward to catching up on some leisure reading over winter break?

There is nothing quite like fresh sheets, pillowcases, and duvet cover to convince your body that it truly is feeling better, and that it can successfully push on through the next two days and not blow an entire semester’s worth of hard work.

*I think I can, I think I can.*

Yeah, listening to the new/old Scatteredtrees album while trying to study for the GRE is far too distracting. 

I suppose I don’t really have to study… 

So, I didn’t exactly pwn the GRE, but it didn’t defeat me either. It was more like we slowly walked past each other with our chests out and chins raised, exchanged a knowing nod, and kept walking, like two proper gentleman. 

Two years ago, I sat in the most uncomfortable task chair ever invented by man in a grossly lit office at a desk that sat facing a woman I couldn’t stand. The walls were painted a ridiculous periwinkle blue, which happens to be my least favorite crayon color since birth. The pillars were painted (I kid you not) various shades of pastels, pink, green, yellow. Really? Who paints an office like a fucking sun-faded circus tent? In between my productivity, I texted back and forth with my friend about all the creative ways I could end my suffering. Some favorites include raiding the janitor closet to drink every substance, flinging myself out of the second story window next to me, fashioning a noose from my headphones, and thrusting my blunt pencil into my throat. My boss was a tool, dropping f-bombs like they the raises we were supposed to be getting but didn’t. He was the worst manager I’d ever seen. Show of hands, how many people have had a boss say ‘this is fucking stupid, don’t know why the hell we ever did that’ in a meeting about changing procedures. Oh, and the bosses favorites? They were the catty, busy bodied 40-50 something bitches who were so unhappy with their pathetic lives that they spent their breaks and lunches making fun of every person who walked past on the sidewalk, gossiping like a bunch of 13 year olds, and sauntering around the office like they had golden rods stuck up their asses. 

***

Needless to say, I quit. My last day, which was actually my second to last day because, to be honest, I didn’t show up my last day, I stood on my desk, flipped two massive birds and turned in a circle before punting my ridiculously old computer (black screen, orange text… NO JOKE) into the face of the hag across from me (or at least I did this in my head). 

***

Now, not everyone there was horrid. There were some genuinely nice people who I pray to god make it out alive. A VERY small group of people there stuck out like sore thumbs, meaning they were awesome. 

***

The point to this rant that I’ve been holding onto like a snarling badger in a bag? I just finished my last final for my bachelor’s degree. I’ll be heading to graduate school in the fall to studying counseling, which I am really excited PUMPED about. As I sat there in my should-be-burned, uncomfortable award winning chair back then, I scolded myself for not being back in school. Finally, I made the decision, and I’ve not looked back. I am more proud of myself than anyone will ever know. I know that when the time comes to make a butt print in another career chair, it’ll be one that I actually fricken like.