High Heels in the Sand

Day 31: A vivid memory

It was the first Winter Break of our college careers, and we were all so excited to be back together. Though I had been raving about how amazing it was to finally be away from our small town, the truth was that that first semester was a bit lonely. I adored my roommates, but I still felt excruciatingly shy and unsure of myself, and it was hard for me to make other friends beyond those in my hallway. My anxiety shot through the roof at times, and I sometimes doubted that I would ever be able to call somebody up to go to the dining hall with me or hang out with on the weekends if my roommates were out of town for a volleyball game or debate club meet. It's a little strange to even write those words now because the rest of college ended up being so enjoyable and lovely that it's easy to gloss over and forget how hard that first year was at times. To be honest, I think I wanted to gloss over it even as it was happening, maybe even now despite it being over. Feeling it was just too hard sometimes.

So that first big break was a big deal. As strong as my doubts about making friends at college was at times, my relief about being back with my hometown girls was even stronger. We had been e-mailing each other non-stop all semester, chit-chatting on the phone, planning visits to see each other. Finally being back together felt like all of the anxiety and loneliness was melting away, and I could finally be myself again. There were five of us then, the Fabulous Five. Yeah, we had a name. We were silly and nerdy, and we had so much fun together. Together we could all squeeze into Katie's silver Echo, blast Brand New or Taking Back Sunday, and sing at the top of our lungs, laughing, squealing, and being oh-so-happy. Oh, so very happy.

We wanted to celebrate our reunion by doing something sophisticated. We were, after all, college girls now, and we needed something a tad more chic than chatting over hot chocolates and caramel macchiatos at the new Starbucks on Main Street. So one Saturday, we dressed in our fanciest dresses and skirts, hopped in the Echo, and drove out east to the Hamptons. We window-shopped, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the designer stores as though a bunch of eighteen-year-olds could afford the Gucci purse we all were gazing at. No matter! That day, we were fancy ladies. 

We stopped in Southampton for lunch, where the waiter looked at us in amusement and handed us our menus. The next hour was filled with the usual rehashing of first-semester war stories. I whipped up a tale or two to keep up, and I even managed to forget the quiet nights spent alone in my room trying to get through the reading for my Philosophy class, listening to people partying across the hall. That day I was the funny one again, the one who who would do anything for a laugh, sang the loudest, and was the most outrageous. I sat back in my chair, content and relaxed in a way I hadn't been in months.

If we had driven back home after that, it would have been fine. Our Hamptons afternoon had been fun, and it had served its purpose. But our route back took us past the beach, and even though it was December and freezing, the beach beckoned. I don't remember who said it first. It might have been me, or maybe not. Either way, someone spotted the surf and shouted, "Hey, wait, let's get out here!" Everyone laughed, and even though we could hear the howling wind coming up from the ocean, we all jumped out and ran out onto the sand. I remember so clearly my gray skirt with black velvet trim fluttering wildly against my legs in the wind, and my strand of pearls felt so cold against my chest that I wrapped my cardigan extra tight around me as though that would somehow warm me. We all screamed into the wind, and our high heels sunk into the sand, nearly sending us toppling down to the ground. I couldn't stop laughing, and I could barely see the others through my once-carefully straightened hair, now a tangled mess strewn across my face. We managed to huddle together and grin brightly into the camera someone had brought along before we scattered down the beach, chasing the waves in the dimming light.

We probably only lasted a few minutes before we were herded us back into the Echo, where the heat had been kept blasting, but those precious moments felt eternal. No matter what struggles I had during that first year, those few minutes on the beach made me feel like I would always be safe, always be loved. It was cold, and it was getting dark, but I swear I could have stayed in that moment forever.

I was finally home.

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Musical Memories

Day 29: Five songs or pieces of music that speak to you or bring back memories.

I felt so excited for this post because it reminded me of a project I did at the end of high school wherein I created a soundtrack for the past four years of my life. It was so much fun to think back on the songs that defined certain moments and years, and I definitely used that as an inspiration for this post. These aren't necessarily all of my favorite songs, but they're some of the ones that I associate with specific moments in my life. 

"Papel de Plata" by Inti-Illimani

This is a Chilean folk group from the 1970s, and they are a major part of my cultural and family identity. The military coup that happened in 1973 in Chile forced my father to flee his home country, and when he eventually settled in New York and created a life with my mom, this music was always playing in our house. My dad plays guitar, and it still brings me so much joy to hear him sing the political folk songs of his generation and country. I chose this song because while there are better known Inti songs, this quieter song makes me settle down, listen to the words, and feel a bit somber. It's a song that I "discovered" on my own, and so it's a bit special to me. 

"American Pie" by Don MacLean

I don't care if people groan when they hear this. To me, it brings me back to my days at summer camp, also known as nerd camp since it was one of those programs for "gifted and talented youth" that involved taking advanced classes and being total dorks. Going to nerd camp was a defining experience for me. In middle school I started to feel really bad for being one of the smart kids, and I felt lonely and weird for wanting to learn. Attending camp was such a liberating experience because it let me feel good about being smart and gave me so much more confidence to go back to school and not apologize for who I was. I really think my life would have been completely different without this particular program. Anyway, every weekend at camp we would have a giant dance on the quad, and without fail, "American Pie" was the very last song played. The entire camp had certain choreographed moves and revised lyrics to go along with it, and it was awesome to be part of a giant dance party and sing at the top of my lungs with my new friends. "American Pie" is freedom.

"Hey Jealousy" by the Gin Blossoms

I had a very tight-knit group of friends by the end of high school, and it was hard to say goodbye to them when one by one we left for college at the end of the summer. The night before each of us left, we  all piled into somebody's car, drove down to the beach to climb up on the lifeguard tower, and then blasted "Hey Jealousy" as we dropped off the girl who was leaving the next day. There were tears and hugs, and then we played the song again on our way to our own homes. It was such a lovely tradition, and this song reminds me of how meaningful and unforgettable relationships like that can be.

"Mrs. Deegan" by John Estacio

(no video, but I have an audio link that may or may not work)

In college, I sang with a women's chorus, and we were fortunate to sing a beautiful repertoire each year. "Mrs. Deegan" is part of a larger piece called "Eulogies," and we first sang it when I was a freshman in the choir. It can be a difficult piece to song if the choir isn't cohesive, and I remember when we finally mastered it, we all had chills and tears in our eyes. It was revived again when I was a senior, and singing this piece at my final concert gave the seniors such a feeling of accomplishment and the sense of having come full circle. I stood next to one of my best friends, and I remember that during that concert we kept reaching over to hold the other's hand as we sang. I'm fairly sure that I had tears streaming down my face as we sang together. 

"All For Nothing" by Face to Face

I first listened to Face to Face on one of those punk compilations everyone had in high school, and I even remember seeing them at a show in London when I was sixteen. They've never been a favorite band, and I couldn't tell you much about them, to be honest. Still, right before we got engaged, when the hubs said that he wanted to play me one of their songs because it made him think of me, I figured I would probably like it. "All For Nothing" was the song, and he played it over and over that summer until finally he proposed. This song quickly became the theme of our engagement, and we decided it should be the song for our first dance. It's definitely not traditional, but it's so much fun, and it absolutely fits our style and relationship. We had a blast taking dance lessons and finally performing in front of our guests, and even though I messed up the steps, I was too busy hysterically laughing the entire time to care. At the end of our dance, we grabbed our guests to come join us on the dance floor, and soon the entire room was filled with people jumping up and down and spinning around. It was fantastic!!

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Thank You

Day 27: A letter to your readers

Dear Readers,

I'd like to take a moment to thank you for being you and for visiting my blog. As I figure out my place in the blog world and try out different things here, it can be a little bumpy and confusing at times, but every kind word of encouragement has mattered so much to me along the way. Thank you for commenting, thank you for reading, and thank you for introducing me to so many other wonderful stories. It's a big, slightly overwhelming internet out there, and and it's nice to feel a little more at home with each post. 

Thank you.

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The Not-So-Great Things

Day 24: Your top 3 worst traits

We're all works in progress, yet sometimes it's hard to own up to our shortcomings. I certainly don't think I'm perfect, but it can be difficult to clearly see what our faults are. Hopefully we have some insight into our character, and we can try to see the areas that could use some improvement. Here's what I've learned so far:

1. I like to control things and for things to be done my way.

I know, I know. I'm a bit of a control freak. I have gotten much better with this, in part due to the life philosophy I've cultivated in my adulthood that reminds me that I cannot control everything, so accept that fact and move on. Even so, I can turn into a bit of a ball of high-anxiety when it comes to things like leaving our cat in the care of a friend or letting the hubs paint the living room while I'm away. I know that things will most likely be okay, but I would feel much better if I could supervise everything to make sure nothing is overlooked. I know how I like things done!

2. I get incredibly shy at inopportune times. 

When the hubs and I were traveling around South America years ago, I often was overcome with shyness/social anxiety and was so nervous about asking questions (to waiters, to bus ticket agents, to our hosts) in Spanish that I made the hubs do it for me. The problem? He didn't speak any Spanish, and I did. Oops! This, of course, drove him crazy since his language skills were so limited, and it would have been far more effective for me to do the talking. The hubs has gotten better with pushing me through these episodes and reminds me that I'm being ridiculous (in a nice way!), but I admit that my shyness still pops up from time to time.

3. I can be a bit moralistic and rigid with my standards.

Overall, I think I am a very accepting person, but from time to time I feel absolutely incensed when someone I love fails to live up to the expectation I have of them. This is very unfair of me, because oftentimes the expectation is superhuman or unfair to begin with, yet I still get so upset about it. When the hubs was trying to quit smoking in college, I would throw a fit if I would find him with a cigarette. The poor guy was trying so hard, and all I could see was the negative! This is without a doubt my very worst trait, and it's one I'm ashamed of. It's something I am very aware of and constantly working to improve, but unfortunately it still pops its head up every now and again. Again, I embrace our humanness and imperfection, but part of my own imperfection is that awful judgment. Thankfully this isn't one of my main characteristics, or I would be miserable!

Since I believe in balance and don't want to ruminate on my flaws, I'd like to end with three things I think are pretty great about myself! :D

1. I have a sense of humor.

Even when picking out my worst traits, I can laugh at them and love myself, anyway. If you can't laugh at yourself, what's the point? No matter how bad things can be sometimes, there is usually a laugh just around the corner.

2. I am capable of embracing love. 

My friends and family are so important to me, and I love them dearly. I like to let others know that they matter, and I enjoy expressing my love through acts of kindness or a nice word.

3. I am my own person.

I'm a quirky gal, and though I might not always be cool, I still love who I am. I don't mean this in the aggressive if-you-don't-like-me-go-jump-in-a-lake sense. It's impossible to be everyone's cup of tea, and that's okay. I just mean that I genuinely like who I am as a person. I love my life, and even though I could be better in some areas, I like being me. :)

Hurrah!

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Wedding Photo Memories

Day 17: A favorite photo of yourself and why

The hubs and I were so pleased with the way that our wedding photos came out. Photo after photo was a beautiful moment captured forever, and I loved how our photographers were able to show how much love and happiness was floating around this day. I could have posted our entire wedding album in this post because some of my favorite photos of myself were taken that day, and since I don't currently have access to some of my favorite childhood photos, wedding photos it is!

I chose this one because I didn't know it was being taken, and I love how it candidly shows a tender moment between me and the hubs. I think somebody was giving a speech at the time, and it made me want to nestle up to my new husband and just be close to him. I felt so excited and happy, and I couldn't stop smiling all day. I look at that photo and feel as though I'm back in our wedding day, and I feel overcome with love for my husband and family. So many of our photos have that amazing power, but this one... this one is the best. 

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Just Another Day

Day 15: A day in the life

I feel the need to offer a disclaimer to this post. This week has not at all represented what a typical week is for me. My clinical placement ended last week, leaving most of my days this week pretty open. Normally, I would go in for my clinical placement in the morning and afternoon, then head across town for my job, where I work until 9 or 9:30 in the evening. While not every day is a 12- or 13-hour workday, having it at all is exhausting, especially when sometimes I don't get home until nearly 11 pm (darn you, evening metro schedule!). I wanted to include this information because the day I wrote about in this post might give the impression that I sleep late every day and prance around the DC area with my camera, followed by lovefests with my cat. That would be fun, but it's just not what happens. However, since I couldn't have taken photos at my placement or at my job, I thought it would be more fun to share one of these atypical, looser days. You follow? Okay, cool. Rant over.

The hubs and I leave for our honeymoon on Sunday, so I'm trying to run around and do all of the things I forgot to do weeks ago. In some ways, I suppose my changing schedule gives an idea of what it's like to be a grad student. Typically, no day looks like the day before, and without any classes or placement to go to, I can be pretty flexible.

Thus, here is just one day in the life of the Quixotic Chica:

First on the agenda: Waking up with this ball of fluff at the foot of the bed!

Next up, coffee and my favorite magazine, Real Simple.

After padding around the house for a while, I headed off to the metro to go downtown for an errand. Sometimes I take the bus to my metro station, but since it was nice out I opted to walk instead. 

Shopping! I was on a mission to find a maxi dress that I could bring along on my honeymoon, and I thought Forever 21 might be the place since I didn't want to spend much money. That place can be overwhelming and awful, but early-ish on a weekday, it's bearable. No luck on the dress front, though I did get a new pair of leggings and basic black t-shirt.

I fruitlessly searched for a food truck near Metro Center since I was getting hungry for lunch. I love DC food trucks, and it's been a while since I've gotten a meal from one of them. Sadly, for some reason none were to be found, so I hopped back on the metro and started the walk back home. 

After pausing to enjoy the lovely flowers planted around a huge townhouse development, I headed to the library and picked up some reading material for our honeymoon. I usually try to bring long books with me on vacation so that I'm not stuck toting around several short books that I finish on the airplane. Catch-22 is the hubs' favorite book, so I'm excited to finally read it. How is it that it's taken me this long?

Back at home, it was time to settle down for some lunch! The sun was warming up the air, and I knew I had to eat al fresco. Although we don't have any outdoor dining furniture, we do have a couple of small chairs (well, one is a stool) and a side table for the back porch so that the hubs and I can hang out when the weather's nice. On the menu: lemonade, blueberries, a veggie burger... and a piece of leftover tres leches cake from the BBQ we had on Sunday. YUM. 

I still had more errands to run, but I decided to take an intermission to catch up on some blog reading and do some editing. 

After chatting with the hubs, who was at school working on a paper, I headed up to Takoma Park. I had passport photos taken earlier this week, but in them I look like someone who has been abusing meth (and I really don't think this is an accurate depiction-- I know I'm tired sometimes, but come on!), so I made the hubs take new ones in front of a white wall. The plan was to go to CVS and print them out, but that didn't quite work out. When I got there, I realized that while I had the memory card the photos used to be on, I didn't have the USB stick that they were currently on. Rats! After some frantic phone calls, the hubs ended up uploading them to the CVS photo website (who knew there was such a thing?), but I wasn't able to get them the same day. Wah wah.

Since I couldn't let the trip be a total disaster, I went to Ace Hardware to have copies of our house keys made for the friend who will be staying at our place while we're away. This place always has the prettiest flowers outside!

Even though it was getting a bit chilly on the walk back home, I wanted to take advantage of the daylight and get rid of the some of the dying weeds in our backyard. I wasn't out there long, but it felt food to rip up the dead clover. Muahaha. Now we just need to level things out and put down some grass seed....

Later on, I set up shop at the kitchen table and worked on a blog post or two before making some dinner. Spaghetti and veggie meatballs (I know that sounds gross to some, but I love them!) hit the spot. Unfortunately, the hubs was staying at the library late to make more progress on his paper, so I had to dine solo. Well, the cat joined me, but she was more interested in attacking the staircase than being a good conversationalist. What a weirdo.

I started to settle in for the evening and set up camp on the living room couch with a big glass of water, smaller glass of wine, and Gilmore Girls. There were still so many things to do, but that's for another day. The hubs would be home in a couple of hours, and I could enjoy the adventures of Loralai and Rory in peace. 

All in all, it was a pretty great day. :)

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10 Happy Things

Day 14: Ten things that make you really happy

#5: Cat cuddles

1. Family. Whether it's holidays spent as a giant extended family or quiet moments on the couch with my mom, I love being around my family. We are a crazy bunch, but most importantly, we're a very loving bunch. There is no shortage of that in our clan. I love going home, and I love that feeling of safety and joy that comes with it.

2. The beach.  I grew up in a beach town, so I associate beach time with childhood and days spent running around under the sun. The feel of the sand beneath my toes and the sun on my face is instantly calming. Though I'm not usually one for swimming around in the water, I love the sound of the waves crashing against the shore while I lay out on my towel. Is there anything more peaceful?

3. Pizza. This might seem weird, but I really do love pizza! The crunch, the tomatoes, the gooey cheese... it's pretty much my perfect food. Sadly, to get good pizza in DC you have to get the gourmet kind. Delivery options? Not so much. Whenever I go back to NY, I have to make sure to grab at least one slice. It's that good.

4. Music. Music was always a presence in my life, whether it was my dad singing and playing guitar or me learning to play an instrument. In high school, I transitioned into studying voice and was active in my school's theatre community, and then in college I got caught up in the world of a cappella and choir. While I love lots of different kinds of music, singing musical theatre and opera are two of my favorites. Being surrounded my such expressive loveliness makes me feel alive and connected.

5. Cat cuddles. That moment when our cat jumps up on the bed and settles down in the crook of my knee or slinks up to curl up on my stomach? I melt. It's one of those simple moments that feels intimate and warm, and I love it.

6. Laughter. I love to laugh and be silly, and a good time spent with friends will definitely be filled with lots of laughter. It makes people feel connected to one another, and it reminds me of how special it is to have people in my life with whom I can be my goofy self. Not everyone gets that, and I feel lucky to be able to laugh and be free with my friends and family.

7. The smell and sight of snow. That crisp wintery scent in the air that rolls in around November? I love that, too. It makes me excited for the nearing snowfall and brings in the best parts of winter. I get so giddy about snow predictions that sometimes I can't even sleep at night because I want to keep getting up to look out the window. Snow brings out the child in me, the girl who cheers for snow days and could stare at that beautiful blanket forever, sipping hot chocolate and delighting in the crunch of snow beneath my boots. Snow is magical.

8. Silly moments with the hubs. This goes back to the #6, but we definitely would not be married if we didn't both love to laugh and be ridiculous sometimes (err, most of the time). Sometimes I think we have our own special, weird language. Could I have a husband who didn't delight in doing the "silly walk" game (each person has to walk as long as possible doing a silly walk-- wild hand gestures encouraged!)? Maybe. But I'm glad that the hubs does.

9. Quiet mornings. Since we moved to the new house, I have been having so many amazing mornings where the sunlight is softly streaming into our bedroom and the only noise is the birds chirping from the tree. Seriously, these birds are amazing! It's such a peaceful way to wake up, and it brings a smile to my face first thing in the day. I cherish quiet moments like that.

10. Perfect timing. As an avid user of public transportation, the moment that the bus arrives just a moment after I get to the bus stop, followed by a train that is coming in just one more minute, is amazing. What makes it even better? When I place myself on the exact spot on the metro platform that will let me off right in front of the escalator at my destination. Pure perfection. :)

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An Apology and a Promise

Day 13: Issue a public apology. 

Dear Running Shoes,

It's been a while. I know. I was sick with that neverending cold and delightful lingering cough, and then we moved, and I no longer had access to a gym nearby. Then things got busy, and... you know.

It's not that I don't want to put you on! I've been feeling restless lately, and I know that a good run would put everything back into balance. I just don't know where to run in this new neighborhood, and the hubs has been too busy to coordinate a running date with me. I need to get over my nervousness and just hit the pavement, but I've been feeling stuck. I want to bring you out for a run, but I just don't. Sometimes it feels like I can't, but I know that's just my pesky sense of avoidance and laziness.

You look so lonely in the closet. The flip-flops are stacked up in front of you, nearly blocking you from view, but I know you're there. Oh, I definitely know you're there. I'm sorry for ignoring you. I really am.

So I promise to change things. I promise to just put you on and start running, leaving behind those silly anxieties about getting lost or getting stuck on a hill. We'll hit the road, you and I, and we'll be happy. We'll run and run, and even though we'll be a little sore, it will feel so so good. Pinky promise.

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Simple Moments

Day 9: A moment in your day (this can be just a photo or both a photo and words)

Note: I know this was supposed to go up yesterday, but I've been having internet problems. Enjoy!

I try to be mindful of the pleasant moments around me, and when I'm in beautiful areas, that mindfulness is pretty easy to come by. Whether it's impressive architecture or thoughtfully-tended flowers, I try to pause for a moment to soak it all in. With the rain we've had the past few days, the grass has become lush and bright, and the sun feels like a gift of relief. Sometimes, when the arc of the tree branches perfectly frames the way up ahead, it's worth it to pause and smile.

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Just Breathe, Woman!

Day 8: A piece of advice you have for others

(via)

Oh, advice. This automatically conjures images of Lucy from the Peanuts sitting at her psychiatric booth, though I will try to have a bit more empathy than Lucy typically showed. :)

Backstory: 

Sometimes, I get really stressed out. It's unavoidable. I start crying because I'm the sort of person whose emotions are wired through her tear ducts, I start wishing that I had superpowers so I could change everything that is causing me stress or at least time travel to prevent my current problems, and I feel really overwhelmed. In my worst moments, I get so caught up in being angry and stressed that I completely lose perspective on what's happening. 

This might have happened last night. And by "might," I mean that it definitely happened last night. About a week ago, I called the State Department to confirm that my passport, which expires in October, was good for travel in June to Spain and Morocco. "Yes," they declared, "you are good to go! Happy travels!" However, I had the nagging feeling that they might be wrong. So yesterday I asked the hubs to call back and ask them the same question.

Hubs: Hi, my wife and I are going to Morocco at the end of the month for our honeymoon. Her passport expires in less than six months. Is it valid to travel on this summer?

State: Hmm, good question. We don't know!

Hubs: But you're the State Department. Aren't you supposed to know these things?

State: Yes.

Hubs: ....

State: We think Morocco only requires that a passport is valid for three months past date of entry, but we're not sure. Maybe you should call them and ask. 

Hubs: (hangs up phone and calls Moroccan Embassy) Hi, the State Department says that U.S. citizens only need a passport that's valid for three more months to come visit you guys in Marrakesh. Is that true?

Morocco: What?!?!?! Why would they say that?!?!?! Passports must be valid for at least six months! Why does the State Department spread such lies??

Hubs: Thanks, Morocco! Love you forever! (hangs up and relays information to me)

Me: I knew it! I knew the State Department was wrong! Now I only have ten days to renew my passport! (has nervous breakdown)

It was reeeeal ugly, folks. I tried to schedule an appointment with the passport agency to renew my passport in super-expedited same-day fashion five times. Each time the automated system glitched and redirected me to a customer service agent who then tried to transfer me back to the automated system despite my insistence that the system was broken and that it had sent me to the agent to schedule my appointment with them instead. On attempt #2, the agent said that there was only one date available in DC before our departure. The only problem? It was smack in the middle of the hubs' graduate school graduation next week.

This is when I started crying. I tearfully told the agent that I needed to call her back because I was having a meltdown. I started looking up flights to Philadelphia and New York to try my luck with their agencies, thinking that I could take a quick day trip if there were any openings earlier than next Friday. Then I cried some more. 

I could have used my life advice much earlier in this process, but it was during attempt #5 that I finally remembered it.

Breathe.

That's it. Breathe. One word. One syllable. Breathe. Sounds simple, right? It is, and it isn't. When I'm caught up in the stress of the moment, thoughts flying frantically through my mind, tears streaming down my face, knot in my stomach, I forget to slow down and breathe. It's so much easier to let the emotions take over and start driving the bus to Crazy Town! However, that really doesn't make me feel so great. Breathing, on the other hand.... breathing is crucial.

On a very basic level, taking a slow, deep breath starts to calm my body down. My heart rate slows down a bit, my muscles start to unclench, and my body starts to back down from fighting stance and back into baseline mode (Whatup, parasympathetic nervous system! Woot woot!). It also gives me a chance to think clearly. Stop, my breath seems to tell me. Think. Slow down. Let go of your desire to time travel to renew your passport last month. It's not going to happen. It would be cool, but it's not going to happen. What can you do? Focus on that instead.

And you know what? It works. Breathing lets me put things back into perspective and troubleshoot with a clear mind. Once I started breathing, I explained to customer service agent #5 what the problem was, and she gave me an appointment that yes, is on the same day as the hubs' graduation ceremony, but is also the latest one in the day so that I can hopefully have time to take pictures with him before running downtown to renew this darn passport in person. It's not ideal. But it's what I need to do. 

Breathing might not solve problems, but it does give us the chance to refocus and tackle our stressors with a clear mind. It's always there for us, and we can do it anywhere. To me, that's the best advice I could ever have. 

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Afraid

Day 7: The thing(s) you're most afraid of

To be honest, friends, I didn't want to write this post. I instantly knew what my strongest fear is, and there's a reason I fear it. I also like not to think about it because it's too sad. As far as fears go, I think the most powerful ones for me are the existential ones. Sure, I'm not crazy about finding spiders in the bathtub or snakes in the garden, but I don't actively fear those things. Any reaction I have to them goes away when the situation is over.

The ones that really stick with me and sometimes loom over me like a horrible storm are the big things. I am absolutely terrified of death. Specifically, I'm terrified of losing my parents. I don't want anyone I love to die, but the thought of losing my parents in particular is so frightening to me because they have been such central pillars in my life. The thought of not being able to get advice from my mom or hear my dad play folk songs on his guitar? Heartbreaking. It would require me to change my world so much that it seems completely daunting and impossible. Ugh. This is so awful to think about that I can't even write much more about this, friends. It's just too scary. Denial and avoidance are awesome defense mechanisms for this sort of thing. Let's just all live forever, okay?

On a lighter note, I do have a legitimate phobia. (That sentence might sound weird, but let's bring some humor back into the discussion, shall we?) I am scared of driving. I hate it! I can drive around my hometown without too much anxiety, but highways scare me. Merging scares me. Parallel parking doesn't really scare me, but it sure isn't fun. Driving too fast scares me. Getting into an accident scares me. I know that one day I'm going to need to conquer this fear and drive around the city. When the hubs and I eventually have kids, it would probably be unfair of me to make the hubs chauffeur them around while I merrily wave from the window. I need to be able to drive without panicking. Buuuut until that day, I am perfectly content to put more money on my metro card and take the bus.

Fears suck! They get in the way sometimes, and sometimes they activate too many terrible feelings. However, I must admit that facing them, or at least letting myself process them, helps a little bit. They don't hold so much power over me when I can name them and figure out why they're so frightening. That makes me feel a little bit better.

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What I Do, Who I Am

Day 6: If you couldn't answer with your job, how would you answer the question, "What do you do?"

Confession: I always feel a little startled when people define themselves solely by their jobs because I think it's important to be multifaceted and not be defined by a single aspect of your life. Even so, when I read today's prompt and thought about what I do outside of my job, it seemed so clear to me that while I don't define myself as being "just a grad student" or "just a counselor," they do represent higher values and goals that make up who I am. For me, the "doing" is very much tied to "being." I try to honor my values and identity by putting them into action. 

So what do I do? I think I can't answer that without also answering who I am. 

I love my family. I try to be a good daughter(in-law), sister(in-law), wife, granddaughter, aunt, niece, and cousin by showing my family I love them. I talk to my mom on the phone multiple times per week, I keep an eye out in bookstores for things my dad might like, and I remind the hubs to send his mom a birthday card. What do I do? I love and nurture.

I like to laugh. Humor is a big part of being in my family, and it's just not a normal family dinner if someone's not making goofy faces or speaking in an accent at some point during the meal. This has definitely translated into my friendships, as well, and I enjoy having fun and being totally silly with my friends, no matter how stressful things can get sometimes. What do I do? I bring light-heartedness to my relationships.

I'm a good listener. I adore my job as a therapist/counselor/whatever-term-you-prefer because I enjoy helping others and giving them a space to be whoever they are, no matter how dark and terrible they think they are. It can be extremely difficult at times, but ultimately I derive so much meaning in my life from serving in this role. Each glimmer of hope that we uncover together is worth a thousand times 
more than the rough patches. What do I do? I accept and value.

I'm a bookworm. One of my uncles used to tease me each time he came over our house because, as he said, I would be in the same exact position every single time he saw me: tucked into the corner of the living room couch, voraciously reading a book. This wonderful habit started to wane when I started graduate school, but I've recently launched myself back into it and have loved rediscovering the joy of reading truly good literature. What do I do? I float away into the worlds created by great writers.

I like to learn. No, I love to learn. My first day of kindergarten, I was wearing a bright pink Benetton shirt and penny-loafers, a stuffed animal in my arms, and a wide grin on my face. My dad snapped a picture of me beaming outside of the school, and then I realized that the other kids around me were crying and gripping their parents' legs, refusing to take another step into the building. This baffled me, as I couldn't understand why anyone wouldn't be thrilled about starting school! That mentality stuck with me throughout school and made it possible for me to progress on to graduate school. I'm hugely nerdy, and I say that with pride. Education rocks. What do I do? I learn, read, study, and write. 

What do you do?

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Being Real

Day 4: Favorite quote and why you love it

(via)

There are so many reasons to love "The Velveteen Rabbit," but this passage is my main one. It's one of my favorite quotes, and it never fails to get me a bit misty-eyed because of its powerful message. 

To me, being Real is about allowing yourself to be truly loved by others and by yourself. If we keep others at a distance, if we don't show our shabby parts and our broken bits, then we won't truly be Real.  Our exterior might look nice and pretty, but it's also a lonely existence. It can be a hard process when you let yourself be vulnerable, and you'll get a few bumps and bruises along the way. We can never really stay in pristine condition, but maybe that's okay. As the Skin Horse says, when you're Real, you can't be ugly. The people who have loved you, who have been passengers on your journey, will unconditionally love and accept you for who you are. Can others be cruel or pass judgment at various points in our lives? Sure. But those aren't the people who give us love. Ultimately, their opinion doesn't matter. 

Being Real means being human. Being Real means being flawed. But above all else, being Real means having lived and being loved. 

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Um, Excuse Me, Sir!

Generally, my life is pretty easy. I am in good health, I have a loving family, and there has never been a time when my basic needs haven't been taken care of. I have more happy days than sad days, and my cat likes me (usually). 

But let's get real. I have terrible metro karma.

I think it's both because I'm a petite person and because I look friendly. When people are cramming into the metro, looking all grumpy-faced and scowling at each other, I'm the one gazing out the window with a goofy smile on my face, daydreaming about the National Basilica and farmers markets. So it makes sense that when given a choice between the woman with the piercing crazy eyes and an oversized, stained sweatshirt and the woman with the smile and J. Crew cardigan, people choose to sit next to me.

But it's not just any people who make this choice. 

It's the crazy people.

Inevitably, I get trapped in the window seat by smelly homeless men, smelly drunk men, and smelly weird men. All. The. Time.

You guys. I'm serious. Stop laughing.

I don't know what it is about this invasion of personal space that seems so obvious to me and so nonexistent to others. I start out sitting right in the middle of my seat, my Kate Spade purse perched on my lap, and my Starbucks bag holding my lunch to my side. Then the smelly man stumbles into the aisle seat next to me, his flapping arm knocking into my purse, and 4 seconds later, I am pressed up against the window while Señor Smelly now takes up exactly 1.33 seats. 

Excuse me, sir! I am a tad uncomfortable with this arrangement! Oh, what's that? You're intoxicated and now unconscious? Okay then. I'll just stay here. I didn't need a full seat, anyway. 

The other night when I was coming home from work, I was feeling pretty good. The hubs had just called to say he would walk me home from the metro station (what a gentleman!), I was reading a really good book... and then Mr. Intoxicated Middle-aged Man appeared. We did the usual fumbling, awkward shifting around routine, the once-neutral air now perfumed with the sweet scent of his bourbon, and Mr. IMaM soon fell into a drunken slumber. 

But because I have bad metro karma, it didn't end there.

Mr. IMaM, his body now incapable of sitting upright due to his very very high blood-alcohol content, began to fall over. Not onto me, as my karma apparently was trying to make a comeback, but into the aisle. Not just once. Not twice. Not thrice. Six freaking times. I'm not talking those slight little twitches, either. I'm talking full-on, head flopped over, shoulders reaching for the ground, arms flailing, near-falls.

Naturally, the rest of the metro car began to stare at him. And after they started to stare at him, they started to stare at me, too. You poor, poor girl, their looks seemed to cry out. You're trapped! You're uncomfortable!

Yes, folks. Yes, I was. 

I know I could just switch seats. I could remove myself from those situations and finish out my commute somewhere else on the train. But I don't. I should, but I don't. After all, my bad metro karma might make me feel uncomfortable and awkward, but it gives me some pretty good stories. That makes it worth it. Almost. Maybe.

Or maybe I should just switch seats.

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How to Be Happy

Educate us on something you know alot about or are good at. 

Ah, happiness. You are that good friend who gets overlooked sometimes. If you disappeared we would all cry out for you to come back, but unfortunately, we take you for granted when you return. You don't hold it against us, but still. Something's got to change.

Beaches at sunset? Automatic happiness!

It might seem odd to proclaim to hold the secret to happiness, and I find it too simplistic (and unrealistic) to say that if you do X, Y, and Z, all of your worries will melt away. I don't know what your struggles are, and honestly, I don't know what will make you happy. But, friends, I do know what makes me happy, and that's really something. Here are my top three lessons:

Find something pleasant in ordinary moments. Too often, we are on autopilot. We rush from activity to activity, our movements robotic and our expressions dour. When this happens to me, I feel stressed, anxious, and drained. It's impossible to be mindful and present when your mind is on a million different things! When I made the decision to try slowing down my mind and opening my eyes, it was hard. Minds like to wander, and I had difficulty keeping myself in the moment. Sometimes, because I often talk to myself (not out loud! ... usually), I went so far as to prompt myself, "Okay, just notice something. What is good around you?" And you know something? It really works. Even if it's just for a moment, it works. 

Example: One of my jobs requires me to work occasional evenings, and my commute takes about an hour. Riding the metro late at night, I'm often exhausted. Each station blurs into the next, I get annoyed when people are loud, and I obsessively check my phone to pass the time. Then one day I realized that I was missing something beautiful. There's this moment, after several underground stations, that the train bursts out of Union Station and goes above ground. The noise and clatter of the tunnel slips away, and the dim platform lighting gives way to a beautiful night sky and the lights of downtown DC. Each time, it feels like we have emerged from something dark and terrible into something freeing and open. I used to completely miss that moment, that seemingly nothing of a moment, yet now it's my favorite part of the commute. No matter how stressful the day has been, that moment when I see the sky brings a smile to my face, and I can relax a little.

Accept that I can't control others, but I can control myself. This was a tough one for me. I can be, shall we say, a bit of a control freak. I like order, I like lists, and I like plans. However, life never really goes according to plan. This used to make me anxious and incredibly angry. Delayed flight? Sobbing tears. Boyfriend going to a party of someone I don't like? Sobbing tears. Thunderstorm canceled the last day of the carnival? Sobbing tears. After a while, it gets old. All of the crying and yelling in the world can't change what has already happened, so what's the point? Of course having emotions is okay. We can't really control those, either! But it's what I do with that reaction that matters most. How do I want to respond in a way that reflects my values and my intentions? Just asking myself that question lets me take a step back from heated situations and feel a lot calmer. It's easy to flip out when everything seems out of control. It's also easy to feel pretty good when you realize that you're in total control of what you want to do about it. 

Be grateful. Life can be craptacular sometimes. When it is, it's hard to see the good things that still exist. When things are really bad, it might even seem ridiculous to say, "Sure, I got fired, but at least my house didn't burn down!" or "It's too bad that my friend has cancer, but at least my Netflix arrived today!" It's okay to feel bad about bad things. It's also okay to feel good and grateful about good things.  Doing so might not "undo" the negative, but sometimes we lose sight of the wonderful things we have. It's worth it to me to remind myself of that. Some people keep a daily gratitude journal, and while I have never done that, every now and again I try to intentionally reflect on what I am grateful for. Maybe it was a good phone call with my mom, a quiet moment outside, or a particularly good caramel macchiato. They don't have to be monumental things, just things that I appreciate and value, no matter how small. It's amazing how quickly those small moments add up.

So that my secret to being happier. Is it perfect? No. I certainly don't follow through on some of these things all the time, though I do try to most of the time. These approaches helped me to shift the way I interact with my world, and it helps me feel more at peace. Learning to pay attention to what I need in order to flourish has been a long process that will persist throughout my life, but it's a worthwhile journey to go on. It's certainly been a rewarding one for me.

What about you? How do you create happiness in your life?

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