Love February 11, 2009

This weekend, a holiday occurs that elicits the most extreme of actions from a good portion of our nation. Nearly every person, in some way, will see the red balloons, the pink and white window decor, the heart decorations, the television spots, the merchandise…ad nauseum. Some will rush out to buy flowers, cards, chocolate, jewelry-anything they can to drain their wallet at the hope that their significant other will feel more special on this Hallmark-created day than they did the day before. In a depressing flip-side, others will feel more lonely than they have all year, with the realization that they have no one to spend this over-hyped, over-done day with. Today, readers, I encourage you to play neither party.

I have always quoted Valentine’s Day to be my favorite holiday of the entire year. I consider myself to be a romantic, so it make sense that the one day out of the year dedicated to celebrating love would be my favorite. At this point, though, the idea that I ever even mentioned that I liked the day is slightly ironic, if not laughable. You see, in order to appreciate a day celebrating a particular emotion, it would do one well to actually know that emotion, experience that emotion, take note of that emotion. It would seem, then, that I was remarkably unprepared to celebrate this “day of love” in the past; I never knew what love was.

At this point, you are getting nauseated. Not by the visions of chalk-flavored candy hearts dancing in circles above a plethora of red and white doilies and roses that I have thus far created in your mind, but because you think you see what’s coming. You think I’m going to give 15-year-old high school girls a run for their money in the amount of time I am going to spend now talking about my boyfriend. Think again.

Though love has always existed in my life, I never took note, never to the extent that I have in recent times. Love is so many things, and can be felt so many ways. Love can just as easily exist between two friends as passionately as it does between two lovers, just in different forms, and expressed in different ways. It is, to it’s core, the most intruiging, most versatile emotion to exist on this earth. Looking back on this past year, I realize that I have never experienced such an abundance of love in my life. I have seen love, felt love, had love, lost love, and been in love. This leads me to the question, what is love? I can only answer with experience.

Love is two parents supporting their daughter’s very random move to a seemingly foreign place, and encouraging her in every step of the way.

Love is a young, single father painting his precious daughter’s fingernails weekly, and watching the same silly movies over and over just to see her smile.

Love is two friends who met 16 years ago in a sandbox, willing to be there for the other at a moment’s notice, regardless of the reason.

Love is two parents toiling every day physically, mentally, and emotionally to watch the success of their daughter’s magazine business unfold, and being all the more proud of her every day.

Love is a friend that is there no matter how poorly situations were handled  in the past, or what country he’s in.

Love is a family that takes their younger, new neighbor under their wing-feeding her great meals when she works long days, introducing her to the neighborhood, and just being there to listen.

Love is two adults who love a girl so much, she could practically be their daughter-and who take steps to ensure she is on the right path and being held accountable.

Love is a man who waited patiently for the girl he  fell for, from the moment he met her-regardless of who she was seeing or how long it took her to come around.

On that note, love is Maplewood Avenue.

Love is a mother who collects change for months, saving up for something special for herself, only to give it to her daughter who she hears is having difficulties making ends meet.

Love is the feeling in the room at a family reunion.

Love is a young couple, just coming out of financial struggles, sending grocery money to the woman’s younger sister to ensure she eats well.

Love is the essence of God.

Love is a boyfriend who encourages his girlfriend to travel thousands of miles away from him to fulfill lifelong dreams of hers.

Love is two friends who schedule all their classes together, hang out together, and never get sick of each other.

Love is an elderly man who still calls his wife his “beautiful princess”.

Love is a squeal, a belly laugh, a run, and a hug from a handsome six year old boy upon seeing his “sister” after a long time away.

Love is two people, married for 27 years, organizing a garage together, only to stop when one of their songs comes on…to dance.

Love is many things, it can come in many forms. Thank you, all of you, for showing me what love is this past year. I’ve never felt my heart swell so much as I have in the past 365 days. Here’s to love, may all of you be showered with love from your friends, families, and significant others. I love you guys.

I want January 23, 2009

I want to go back.

Back to that mountain.

Back to that street.

Back to being happy.

Back to being myself.

I want to go back.

Extraordinary November 5, 2008

I have decided to begin writing a series of blogs on people who have touched my life, had an impact on me, or generally mean a great deal to me. Through this sort of experimental blogging, I intend to build and maintain a deeper appreciation for those around me, as well as allow people to see just how much they matter. Without further ado, my first blog on the subject:

It isn’t often one lives their life with a certain, stagnant view on an issue or person, only for it to make a complete turnaround in just a few short weeks. For this reason, I am writing a blog on my experience with this phenomenon some call “wising up.”

My whole life, I have had something special in the way of my relationship with my father. He and I just click-we seem to have the same reasoning mechanism, and tend to agree on any issue presented to us. We often text or call each other at the same time, specifically to tell each other the exact same thing. You may think, after reading this paragraph, that this is a blog about my father and how amazing he is. Though I could write a year’s worth of blogs on that topic, it is not what I am here to do today. Rather, I would like to tell you about my mom, Tina.

For as long as I can remember, my relationship with my mom has been slightly strained. We have always butted heads on so many ideas, issues, and experiences, and just don’t seem to “get” each other very well. We have never communicated in the best way, which led to exasperation and frustration on both sides. I’ve had a sort of skewed view on my mom for years-though I loved her, I often mused that there existed a sort of ceiling we would never manage to break through in our relationship. In essence, I felt that we were capable of, at the very most, tolerating each other. Yes, love still existed, but in the almost required, bare-bones familial sense, and not much more, I felt.

Recently, all this has changed. I don’t know how exactly it started, but I do know it was little things, at first. I realized, as I was cleaning my house here at school, that I never saw my mom do a lot of the chores that are necessary to keep a house maintained, yet they always seemed to be done. This debunked my juvenile notion that my mother never did any work. I called my father about it, and he noted that my mom would often stay up very late doing such tasks, and she really worked harder than we gave her credit for. This moved on to other realizations. My parents came up for my senior pinning ceremony, and my mom just struck me as such a giving person. When I told her I liked her eyeliner, she handed me the tube and insisted I take it…she has done this countless times over the years, and I just fail to take note of the consistency with which she gives of herself so much. I’m beginning to see, and it’s truly overwhelming. When I call for a recipe, she stays on the phone for 15 minutes giving me step-by-step instructions. When she found I was struggling financially, she sent money along, without being asked or anything. Many people don’t know this, but my mother also risked her life for me when I was two years old by diving into a pond to save me from drowning-she couldn’t swim. There are so many ways which my mom helps me out, and I can’t believe I have been so blessed.

The measure of a friend is not how much they do for you, but rather the place you hold in their heart. The measure of a mother is exactly the same. I have been blessed to have not only an incredible, encouraging, loving mother in the woman who is Tina Devereaux, but also an incredible friend. Throughout my life, I never would have expected to come to this conclusion, but I am so glad I have. I love you, Mama.

Lyrics. September 30, 2008

To you, who I generally have regarded as one of the top loves in my life: You’re right about the slow fade. Just know it’s not an immediate return, but it is happening.

A song by Casting Crowns says a lot:

Be careful little eyes what you see.
It’s the second glance that ties your hands as darkness pulls the strings.
Be careful little feet where you go,
For it’s the little feet behind you that are sure to follow…

It’s a slow fade when you give yourself away
It’s a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day
It’s a slow fade, it’s a slow fade

Be careful little ears what you hear,
When flattery leads to compromise, the end is always near
Be careful little lips what you say
For empty words and promises lead broken hearts astray.

The journey from your mind to your hands
Is shorter than you’re thinking
Be careful if you think you stand
You just might be sinking

-Casting Crowns

My heart is broken. It will never be the same.

One love. September 21, 2008

My facebook status questions whether the rather ambiguous “things” will ever be the same again. I realize I am coming to the conclusion that no matter when a person asks that question, the answer is, 100% of the time, a resounding “no.” I am coming to grips with this slowly, but it definitely leaves me sitting back and thinking on so many issues.

Many people reading this may question what I am speaking in regards to when I reference “things” and “issues.” It’s as broad of a scope as the words are generalized, and I don’t feel I can whittle down everything I am speaking about in a few short paragraphs. I’ll attempt to touch on a few of the topics that are on my mind, blog by blog. This blog in particular addresses the issue of Christianity, in a sense. No matter where your beliefs lie, I urge you to read on. This blog came out of my mind and my heart at lightning-fast speed, and I feel that there is something for everyone to learn here. I know just in the short time it took me to write it, I learned an exponential amount of things about myself and where my heart lies. Please read on, and feel free to let me know what you think in the comments section-I’d love to learn from you too.

One of the things I am concerned with being the same again is my innocence, especially in the way I look at the world. Different life experiences have opened my eyes to things and ways of the world I never knew existed, and I know in my heart that I will never be back to believing that everyone is truly good and all possess amazingly pure hearts. I am not sure I ever completely felt that way, but looking back, it’s what I wanted to believe. I have often wondered if my viewpoint on Christians and Christianity, foremost, will ever come close to being the same again. I am sure at this point that it will not. Let me explain.

I can say with all honesty that I will forever be able to pinpoint when my eyes were opened, when I began changing my viewpoints and my outlook on life and religion. Vermont. Vermont, for me, was a time of experience and learning, a coming-of-age tale as well as a chance to forge my own path, a time which allowed me to truly define myself by both words and actions. I wish I could say that I was successful in being the person everyone in my life would be proud of, every step of the way. I wish I could sit here and type that I had nothing but great experiences which made me a great person today. I wish I could smile and tell you that I was a wonderful witness for Christ and my faith on every single occasion. But to claim any of these things I so long to tell you would be a fabrication and I am not in the business of being dishonest. I do know I learned more about myself than I could have ever imagined, which led to many epiphanies and resolutions in my heart and mind. This is something for which I will forever be grateful.

While in Vermont, as all of my readers know, I went a little wild there for a brief time-about a month, at most. I was on a different date a few times a week, I picked up habits that I didn’t even imagine myself being capable of, and I went out on the town…a lot. The world has a way of being able to lure us in with bright lights, gleaming smiles, and the ability to forget everything you’re not proud of by the next morning. I could say that the world made me do it, that friends pulled me in, that I had nowhere else to be, but these would just be excuses for something that I willingly and knowingly allowed myself to be a part of. I chose a life of guys, partying, and general irresponsibility at times. I did it on my own free will, believing that I could be stronger than anyone’s influence, but I was wrong. (As an aside, my mother has expressed concern that by saying I was with a different guy every few nights, I will look like a “hoochie” and people will think I was sleeping around. When I say dates and guys, I mean dates and guys. Nothing more.)

So that’s it. Partying happened, many guys happened, drinking happened, etc. For about one month of my life, I did not have the control on my life I do now, I did not make myself proud, I was generally a bit out of line. I am owning up to it, it’s done, it’s over, and yet I still don’t feel like it is. I have been seeing one incredible guy, and one guy only for the better part of two months. I went out downtown with a few of my friends in Burlington on my last night there, but had no more than two drinks. That was the last time I’ve gone out. If I seem like I am trying to defend myself on these issues, I think, to a point, I am. I am back here in Bible Belt, North America, and am shocked to see the judgment one can receive after a stumble, a short blip of poor decisions in their life. It’s amazing to me that while everyone sins, many people who call themselves Christians have the unattractive tendency to forget that they themselves commit their own acts of indiscretion, and instead choose to focus on the shortcomings of others.  For this reason and this reason alone, hundreds of thousands of people, if not millions, will refuse to claim Christianity as their religion during my lifetime.

Before anyone gets upset or feels called out, realize that I am not speaking of one person here.  If you do feel like you acted in this way toward me, you were merely one of many who saw a photo of a friend drinking a beer on facebook and assumed I was holding the camera plastered. You were one of a few who heard about me going on a few dates and assumed the worst. I am not speaking of one person here, remember that. I’m also not only referencing my own life (or month, rather) being judged-so many people are falling victim to the same treatment. Where I live at this current time runs rampant with judgment and unchristianlike attitudes thinly veiled by claims of genuinely caring. It’s sickening, and it very much led me to write this blog, straight from the inner recesses of my heart. Again, this is not an attack or a rebuttal to anyone. It’s to everyone, including myself. Lastly, it needs to be understood by all who stumble (read: everyone on earth) that there are consequences to every action, and it may do you well to realize that one of the consequences is unfortunately judgment and disappointment by those in your lives. I aim to change the former.

I’d like to issue a challenge to my readers, no matter what faith or denomination you may be. Love. Love each other, through and through, with no regard to any reasons your simple human mind tries to come up with to deter you from committing this act. Listen to the 90-year-old woman who just wants to tell you about her late husband’s silly habits. Tell your parents how much you appreciate them. Assume the best out of every single person, and give everyone a fair chance. If someone does you wrong, forgive them-you know you’ll be in the same boat in the future and want to be forgiven. Genuinely appreciate the people that have been put into your life, and treat them with the kindness you wish everyone would give each other. It’s not so hard, really, but yet everyone (including myself) has such an issue accomplishing this-to love everyone in their life. The human condition is one that often instigates jealousy or intimidation, which in turn causes people to act unjustly toward one another. It is unfortunate, but in my opinion, incredibly true. Next time you are driven to be rude or unkind to someone, question yourself as to your attitude, and really attempt to fight human nature by treating them with the most love you find yourself capable of giving. If we do this, readers, if we each only treat one person in our lives differently, the effects could be overwhelming. Think about it.

My next challenge is for those who claim Christianity as their faith. I would like to state first and foremost that I find myself to be a horrendous Christian, but I am also glad I am not at the other end of the spectrum. I often go to God when I need something, and yet forget to offer up my praise when things go right. I, like many others, question His motives when something bad happens in my life, yet when it all works out in the end and I’m so happy that the negative events happened, I neglect to make mention of the fact. I often think the worst in people and situations when I know it’s not the right way to be. The amazing thing about this deity we call God is that if you believe in Him, you believe in His grace-meaning, if you believe He exists and take the Bible as truth, you accept the fact that He offers every single person a million chances to do what is right, and always takes each person back with loving arms. Jesus is the same-no matter if you think He was just a great man or the Son of God, look back upon his teachings and the way he treated people. I solemnly believe that if Jesus lived on this earth in a human form right now, he would not be invited into the cliques so many churches have created. He would be hanging out with the gays, the prostitutes, and the misfits. He did the same thousands of years ago, so why would it be any different? My challenge to you, Christians (as well as myself), is to attempt to be like Jesus. That’s what it’s all about, right? Love everyone. Take everyone who wrongs you back with open and loving arms. Give people a chance. Refuse the close-knit cliques of the church and branch out to the people who need a friend most of all. Don’t condemn or judge anyone-realize that it is not your place to do so. If everyone acted like this, if everyone truly sought to be like Jesus, the face of Christianity would change. I know that one blog written by a silly college girl in Middle of Nowhere, NC can’t change what has been in place for centuries. I am not Martin Luther, and I do not posses anywhere near 95 theses or nails. I am simply a girl, a student, a dreamer, a Christian, a friend…fed up with the façade so many people around me tend to hide behind while hurling their holier-than-thou speeches over these walls they have built around themselves.

In short? Be real. One life, guys. One life to do it all, see it all, be it all. Do it right on the first shot, because that’s all you have. Encourage everyone around you to do the same. Don’t be content with the status quo. Don’t be happy with being lukewarm on anything. Give everyone a chance, including yourself. One life, guys-one life to make it happen. One life. One love.

Void August 27, 2008

I have officially left Vermont, moved into my first house ever, and started my last year of school. Surprisingly, though, I am not nearly as excited as I think I should be in this case.

Many people who know me have recently asked,“what’s wrong?” on a fairly consistent basis. The fact of the matter is that I am not quite sure how to answer that inquisition. I’m not sure that anything is necessarily “wrong,” but I know I don’t feel completely “right.” My move from Vermont to South Carolina, then to North Carolina, was a whirlwind, and things have just begun to settle. As the dust clears, I have begun to notice that I feel a void is present. Whether it is in my heart or my life is yet to be determined, but it exists nonetheless. It’s not that I am crying all of the time (though it has happened a bit more than usual lately), it’s more of an uncomfortable calmness and distancing of myself that I currently possess. It leaves many people around me questioning, yet I am most curious of all as to the source.

I knew I’d miss Vermont; who wouldn’t? Though I spent my summer taking in the essence of the most beautiful location I’ve seen on earth thus far, Vermont is a place of still undiscovered mystery to me. Unlike in the South, I feel that I haven’t even scratched the surface of getting to know the types of people that live in the beautiful state. Even though (largely thanks to TB) I walked, hiked, and kayaked much of the land and water, I am sure that I haven’t come close to experiencing even a fraction of the natural wonders the area has to offer. I was also only hours away from a number of members of my extended family, and only minutes away from my favorite cousin, but I missed the opportunity to see them on more than one occasion. It’s safe to say that I will be back, if only to reclaim the roots I began to plant, and to take in the place I know I have left my heart.

Speaking of my heart, it is most likely beyond obvious that one reason for the void is my sudden detachment from a person who had become a fixture in my life-Patrick. He and I practically lived together this summer (as most of you know, we were neighbors), seeing each other upon arrival from work all the way up to the point where he would sleepily trudge back to his house at 2am, and texting any time in between. The fact that he was such an overwhelming presence in my life led to the unfortunate feeling of complete emptiness when he left me last Friday. I tend to be above situations, in my opinion-I am too prideful to let circumstances get the better of me. Surprisingly to me, unsurprisingly to the majority of you, I am sure, this situation grabbed me in the most upsetting way, and I am still trying to grip it correctly. Much to Pat’s chagrin, I am quick to throw in the towel, slow to apology and acceptance of such, and often fairly pessimistic. I know for a fact that all of these tendencies comprise a sort of defense mechanism I have put in place for myself-an unwillingness to allow either of us to get hurt. I need to take a cue from the way I’ve been in recent memory, and just jump in, take a risk, and see what happens. I also need to break down the parts of this so-called defense mechanism I have built, and treat Patrick with the love and respect he deserves, with the patience and attentiveness he so consistently offers me. Bear with me, HNB.

Lastly, financial worry has yet again crept up and taken over, with the burden of finding a steady source of income wearing on me. I am currently seeking after a position with the same company I worked for this summer-writing blogs for their wedding website. If I can secure this, I think I’ll be pretty set. I’m still attempting to have 3 jobs on top of that, though. Surprisingly, none but the blog-writing would be steady or pay even fairly well, but I need any money I can get at this point. I can’t wait until I am out of college and pulling myself out of this miserable financial pit of despair, though I know I still have a long road ahead with student loans.

As a positive, I am looking forward to my birthday which comes in 17 days. I’ll be 22 years old, and I’m hoping so deeply that I get the present that was semi-promised to me as of last week. The kitten issue is no more-my roommate is allergic, so I had to go a different route. Patrick and I talked about it, and are seriously considering a dog. He said he might buy me one for my birthday. Not a puppy that requires an inordinate amount of training, vet visits, and attention, not a massive dog…just a small to medium sized chill dog to keep me company and accompany me on this crazy life of mine. I have been against it in the past, but I’m beginning to see its merits. After a brief search online, I found an incredibly sweet looking border terrier mix on petfinder that looks exactly like Baxter from Anchorman, and fell in love. We’ll see though. So much could change in a month, and by that time, I may be on to my next desire or adventure. Best case scenario is that I get this job with the company I worked for over the summer, as well as the occasional catering weekend. This would allow me to spend a lot of time at home, rather than neglecting the dog as so many college students end up doing. Only time will tell, I guess.

I am determined to not let anything bring me down, but I’ll be the first to admit that it takes a lot of drive and focus to let that be the case. If I look to the future-not what I am leaving behind, I can realize that with each passing day, it is only getting better. With each passing day, I am one step closer to finishing this chapter of my life for good and moving on to the next one that I so desperately want to inhabit. Yet, as the lyrics of my favorite song, “Vienna,” by Billy Joel suggest, I need to slow down and live the life I’m living. Tommorow will come at its own pace.

“There is no future, there is no past. I live this moment as my last.There’s only us, there’s only this. Forget regret, or life is yours to miss. No other road, no other way, no day but today”-RENT

Noise August 12, 2008

When a song is on repeat, you can’t help but focus on it, be affected by the lyrics, and think about it constantly. Such is the case with the countdown of days in my head. The tune of sadness is the same, but the words are different every time.

“6 days, 6 days, 6 days.”

“4 more days of being neighbors with Patrick.”

“5 more days of work.”

“A week and a half until school starts.”

“Less than a week until I am in the car back to South Carolina.”

All day, every day, this song of loss plays in my head. The numbers change, but yet it presses on. They are now in the single digits, and have been for a while. With every glance at a clock, every email received, every text looked at, I am reminded of the date, and the volume is turned up.

Where is the mute button, and why can’t I find it?

I wish I was capable of not focusing on such depressing facts, but that’s not in my character, my nature. Unfortunately, I have always been one to let things get to me and bother me until I am practically nauseated and pulling my hair out over the stress of being bogged down by negativity. It’s a flaw I am trying to eradicate, but this situation does not help in any way.

I have attempted to think about things I can look forward to in North Carolina. I have been left grasping at straws on more than one occasion. I finally got something to look forward to, and my spirits picked up noticeably. At this point, though, it’s not looking good anymore, which was a letdown. As simple as it was, it was something that was keeping me going, giving me something exciting to focus on, and now I am left grasping again.

I am presently standing on the edge of an amazing experience, staring into a void, an unknown. Behind me lie incredible opportunities, relationships, experiences, and places. I have to step forward, but my shoes feel full of lead. Regardless, what’s behind will quickly disappear, and I must press on.

It is, without a doubt, the most difficult transition of my life.

Someone, please, turn the volume down. I want to hear the beauty of these last few days, and dwell on the people, places, and experiences I have had the pleasure to behold.

Setting Sun August 1, 2008

(This blog was written over the course of a week or so)

I am presently in the backseat of a car right now, riding down interstate 93 on my way to Martha’s Vineyard.

Tuesday night, I flew to Charleston to see my family, saw a bunch of friends and family, and then headed to North Carolina to be a bridesmaid in Jess’ wedding. I flew into Burlington at 12:15 last night, only to wake up this morning, repack my bags, and head out to meet a few coworkers and a photographer to take the drive to Martha’s Vineyard. I’ll be spending the week there, Cape Cod, and Nantucket working on photo shoots and the like. My parents fly in for a vacation on Wednesday night, and I’ll be be able to see them a little this weekend, hopefully. I’m supposed to be leaving again next Sunday to go to the Hamptons for more shoots, but I’ve recently heard that may be postponed. We’ll see. After all of this, I still only have a few short weeks left in Vermont. I leave August 17 to come back to North Carolina, and I’ll be honest-I’m not looking forward to it.

It’s hard for me, knowing how much money Gardner-Webb costs, and not feeling at all happy there anymore. I question whether I have found true contentedness yet. I feel that I will be constantly seeking, searching, and running after this white rabbit called as such, and always looking ahead to my next adventure. I need to learn to be content in every situation, with any person, though it’s people that I am having a hard time with these days…

As I am writing this, I am thinking back to the relationships I have made here in Vermont, to the friends I saw these past few days in the South. I am sad to say that so many of them feel forced, so many feel fake, and so many feel like such a guise. I wonder why I keep falsehood so close to my heart, when it’s not even worth it. I am not sitting here wallowing in self pity, convincing myself that no one truly cares, etc. What I am saying is that I don’t feel close with most people these days, and I am quite sure that a majority of the fault lies at my feet. I have recently begun building a wall around myself, and only a select few have taken it upon themselves to try to scale it. I don’t expect anyone else to, really, and I actually would rather them not. I need to come to a point where I feel that I can trust people again. A number of past relationships have left me questioning the motivations and hearts of every person I come into contact with, which is a horrible way to interact with others. I am constantly on high alert, and I am very wary of letting others see my emotions. To be sure, this is my battle and mine alone, and I hope to succeed in the end. For those who are trying to get in, I appreciate your patience. For those who have given up, I don’t blame you.

——————————-(now being written almost a week later)———————-

I semi-frequently get the feeling that things are becoming out of my control, spinning just out of my grasp, consistently just shy of my fingertips. I’ve felt this feeling in recent days. With two and a half weeks until I leave for North Carolina, I am beginning to feel a loss in my heart, a loss of a place that has become my home. A loss of some people who I really began to get close with, a loss of the feeling of accomplishment I have after seeing the final product of some of my work…so much. I can’t describe it.

Another loss I am beginning to feel is the loss of someone who has become my very best friend and now…well, I guess you could call him boyfriend, Patrick. I know there are many of you who were taken aback by the situation, and to be honest, so was I . Here’s what is going on. At the beginning of the summer, I was told I had a “hot neighbor boy” by K, who I live with. I took it with a grain of salt, and went on my way of meeting others, working, and living my life in general. Later, I was introduced, and Patrick and I quickly became great friends. We made breakfast and dinner together often, and he was there every night when I got home from work. He helped me settle down from the going downtown every night lifestyle, and yet it remained kind of a friends thing (in my mind) for a while. There were many times where Pat would sit on my bed talking to me while I got ready for a date, and once or twice, he met the guy in my driveway and shook his hand. Apparently, all the while, he was waiting on me to come around, to see what was in front of me. You know, same old story, right? Well, I continued building my relationships with others, until very, very recently I was blindsided by my genuine care and affection for him. It started when I realized how much I missed him when I went to NC/SC, but was just magnified when I saw how much my parents loved him. My parents took to him right away-which has never hapened before. I can’t describe it, but everyone in my family that was around just clicked with Patrick. The last thing my parents said to me as they left for the airport was, “hang onto him…we really, really like him.” Through all of this, it really just opened my eyes to the fact that I should just try to focus in on this and see where it takes me. I understand that it was a blow to some, but I hope everyone understands that I would never want anyone in my life to be sad. This hit me very suddenly, and I would be stupid not to try and see where it goes. A former friend once told me, “be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind…” I am keeping that in mind as I am met with people trying to make me feel bad about choosing this path. That’s all I am going to say about that. I am happy, though it still gets to me every day that this decision made a few people really sad. All I know is this-I care for Pat a lot, and what we have developed recently is so worth the pain that is undoubtedly ahead. At this point, Patrick and I know it’ll a rough road, to try and have a long distance relationship, and we don’t really know how much of a chance we have at this lasting. But, we decided giving it a shot gave us more chance than walking away, so here we are. He’s going to be riding with me to South Carolina in two weeks, then we’re headed up to North Carolina-hopefully we can meet up with a few of you!

I am going to try desperatley to make the most out of my last few days here. For those in Vermont, I really hope we can hang out one last time. For those in North Carolina and South Carolina…get ready, because I’m coming back.

Speeding July 3, 2008

Recently on my way home from work, I heard the ever-irritating Rascal Flatts belting out “Life is a Highway” from my car speakers. As I sped toward my destination, I contemplated the cliche. I guess you could call life a highway…we are all headed in one direction, u-turns are not allowed, and some people seem bound and determined to get ahead, no matter what the cost. Sounds like a trip on I-85, I-89, or I-26 to me.

Lately, my life has been equivalent to a German autobahn. Because I am only here for the summer, everything seems to be going at many times the speed it typically would. Lessons that would have taken a few months time to learn are coming in on a weekly basis. Phases I would have gone through for a semester or so are fading in and out of my life like a lighthouse beam. Friendships, relationships-all coming and going faster than I can keep up with them. The hours I log at work are blending together, so much that I rarely know what day it is.

It’s enough to leave a girl a bit overwhelmed.

I am often on the road for school, work, or travel. Invariably, at some point in my drive, I’ll look down at the speedometer and realize that I’ve somehow managed to be going close to double the posted limit without even realizing it. When placed in new surroundings, it is far too easy to quickly get caught up in certain fast-paced lifestyles, seemingly fun at the time, but eventually met with bitter consequences. Such lifestyles can tend to catch you off guard and blow up in your face, like blue lights in your rear view without warning.

When I allow myself to get caught in the webs of the aforementioned lifestyles, I feel discontent. I feel like a failure.

I have come to realize that those moments which make you feel content are the ones in which you have achieved true success. When you experience these moments, hold onto them, and attempt to come up with any feasible option to ensure such an event can happen again. If you are able to do so, your life will be abundant with the feeling of success, and these successes will be in the areas most important to you.

Contented moments are rare for me in this fast paced life of mine, but I do experience them occasionally. Kayaking through a storm in Magog, Quebec, driving with my little sister through Canada while singing along to ridiculous rap songs, grilling the world’s most expensive barbecue chicken (only because of our impulse buys) with TB while having serious discussions on existentialism (mixed with great, immature conversations on whatever strikes us at the time), laying in the middle of the road with my amazing, yet-to-be-introduced-on-this-blog neighbor, looking at the stars and talking about life…these moments hearken back to the idea of “life moments.” It is these moments that get me through the daily grind, that give me something to listen for when everything else becomes deafening.

I’m learning a lot in my short time here, and with such learning comes joy, heartache, uncomfortable realizations, and self discovery. I’m taking my own advice-taking these moments in which I feel successful, and figuring out just how I can ensure I don’t lose them. The other moments-the moments in which I feel like I am not living to my potential, not being who I truly am, not truly happy…those will just have to stop occuring, and I know that only I have the power to control if and when they do.

Red pill/blue pill. My turn signal is on. I’m merging into the slow lane.

Life Moments June 11, 2008

3,858 feet above sea level Sunday, I was asked what one of my most obvious “life moments” was-a moment where I felt fully invigorated and alive. I considered this for a moment, and was sadly left searching for a proper answer. Sure, I’ve been white water rafting, I’ve witnessed the birth of a child, I’ve lain on a beach and watched a meteor shower, I’ve sat on an old bench under a twinkling Eiffel Tower…but none really fit the profile of an event that caused me to feel alive. This has to change. I am 21 years old, and the world is completely open to me. There are so many things I want to do, and I am determined not to let anything hold me down. It’s ridiculous to me that I have not traveled far off of the east coast (besides Paris), that I haven’t taken part in more adventuresome activities. Each person on this earth has just one life, and I intend to live mine to the fullest possible extent.

Grabbing life by the…horns…helps when you have people in your life who encourage you to do so. At this time, I have a nice handful, made up of family members as well as a few friends. One of these friends, TB, has inspired me more in this regard than anyone ever really has. I can’t tell you how thankful I am for that.

Sunday morning, TB and I met halfway between his area of Canada and my little town in Vermont at a mountain called Jay Peak. We started up, and I must say that I was a bit nervous at times. We went through mud, snow (very little…but it was there!), broken bridges, unsteady rocks, streams, and near vertical climbs at times. I remarked that I didn’t expect it to be so steep, and TB laughed and sarcastically responded that we’d definitely choose a “shallow mountain next time…you know, one of those flat mountains.” Touché, TB, touché.

I was very invigorated upon our arrival at the top. I feel like I wouldn’t have been able to do such a strenuous workout even just a few months ago, so it felt like an accomplishment. TB took out a spread of the largest amount of food I have ever seen on a picnic. In his smallish pack, he had: rotisserie chicken, rice, ham, prosciutto, pepperoni, swiss, cheddar, blue, and mozzarella cheeses, salad, fruit salad, bread, pate, champagne, ceramic plates, ikea silverware, freshly-bought Jay Peak glasses, and cloth napkins. This man went all out, I’m telling you. It was pretty amazing to seemingly sit on top of the world enjoying an incredible picnic with TB.

Later, we walked back down the mountain-harder than it looks, really. I have surprisingly bad knees, so the locking of the joints as I attempted to walk down slowly was murdering them. I ended up walking backwards at times, but slipped and half-fell on a mud slick that a certain British man failed to warn me about… (kidding) (but not really) (alright, I’m kidding). At the bottom of the mountain, we found a large patch of semi-powdery ice/snow. Of course, we had a big snowball fight…though I would venture to call it an attack, as TB insisted on hurling large chunks of ice/snow directly at my face.

At the bottom of “our” mountain, TB and I found a stream of snowmelt and jumped in for a few minutes. It was one of the most refreshing plunges I’ve ever taken, though I didn’t fully submerge myself. I stood in the water, half freezing, half overheated…happier than I’ve been in a very long time.

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After leaving the mountain and returning home, I surveyed the damage. I am bruised in multiple areas of my body. I have so many scratches, it looks like a cat recently took an extreme dislike to me. My bug bites are so abundant that the pharmacist recoiled at the sight and quickly suggested that I see a doctor, as it could easily be poison ivy. All of the muscles in my legs are tight and slightly sore. My legs and arms have a very strange bright red pattern on them, consistent with an odd sunburn. Yet I barely notice any of this, and it is all the very last thing I think about when I think about my adventuresome day with TB.

Life moments? I’d say I just experienced many.

Photo: Taken by TB on top of Jay Peak