Happy Birthday to ME!

Today is different from most days. Not just because I'm older, but because I'm celebrating a much more subdued birthday than in years past.
Typically I spend the day with my mom and sister-in-law (it's Rene's birthday too). But this year I'm far away and miss them terribly.
This year I'm at work. At a job I don't really have. And my friends aren't really here. It's a total bummer in many ways. But I refuse for today to suck as bad as I've expected.

And I've been so grateful for all of the sweet, unexpected phone calls, cards, blog posts and birthday wishes from my friends and family!!! It's really made this day a good one. So thank you for remembering me even when I'm not around!

I've been feeling pretty lonely these days in New York, so hearing from everyone is just the best ever. So thanks for all of your sweet emails and such!


Happy Birthday Rene'!
Happy Birthday Lisa!
Happy Birthday Ashley!

A Friend, A Superhero, and Inspiration... Remembered

July 28, 1978 - December 3, 2006


I just got a call from Kelly. It was one of those phone calls. Those phone calls that start out sort of normal and then you quickly sense something tense in their voice, indicating something horrible has happened.

"I have some bad news," she said.

She went on to tell me that our dear friend, Amy Ruman, has died.

If you knew Amy - even if you didn't know her well - she was likely also a dear friend to you. That's just how she was.

There was something very special about this woman. This superhero, pint-sized woman. She fought and won health battles time and time again throughout her life. But last Sunday, her body just couldn't do it anymore.


I first met Amy a few years ago at church. We all called her "Lil Amy" and for good reason. Amy stood about 4-feet, 10-inches tall. She was tiny. So tiny that every time I hugged her I wondered if I'd break her in two. But she LOVED hugs, so many, many times, people would carefully wrap their arms around her, hoping to avoid crushing her teeny frame.
As a child, Amy had a tumor removed that would keep her from growing to a full height. She wore kids sizes in clothes (cute clothes!) and thus, never had the fear of wearing the same outfit as anyone else to church. She was feisty. She also didn't let her ailments define her.
Her personality always beamed positivity. Even in moments of angst, she would utter words of faith, hope, and healing working within her. She converted to the church in 2000 and it was her life-source. She was an inspiration to me.
That word, "inspiration", can be so over-used when speaking of someone who's passed. But in Amy's case, there really is no other word.

A couple years ago I saw her in church and she pointed to a new accessory she was wearing. It was a small machine about the size of a tape player I had as a child. It made a soft white noise and had little monitors that looked similar to a compass. Attached to it was a tube that ran straight into her stomach.
"This is how I take my medicine now," she said quite simply with a shrug. It was truly NO BIG DEAL to her. Amy had been to hell and back throughout her life with all sorts of health problems. To her, this medicine machine was just one more step in the process.
Before that moment, I always believed Amy's attitude -- that she would live forever. But I remember distinctly wondering that day whether this would be the last time I would see her. She, however, gave no thought to the end of her days. Her focus in life was to prove to the rest of us how to really LIVE.

Amy would walk up to the church podium, pull the microphone down, and tip up her chin with a strain to utter the words of her strong testimony of the Savior. Amy - although little - had one of the biggest spirits I'd ever met. She was honest about her genuine love for the Lord and was consistently filled with the reminder that every moment on this Earth is a blessing. Amy wasn't one to take things for granted, nor would she waste much time complaining about things. In fact, the only thing she ever even sounded slightly negative about was the lack of romantic interests in her life. Amy didn't let her illness get in the way of pursuing love in her life.

About a year ago, I received an excited email from her telling me about a new guy she'd met online. Aaron was younger, totally cute, and lived in California. I could tell this relationship was going to go somewhere. That just seems to happen sometimes -- those moments when you can tell a friend is telling you about "the one."
A couple months later she told me she was engaged! This was glorius news to me. But I - like most of our friends - secretly wondered how long this marriage would last. Amy had a terminal disease. She had pulmonary hypertension, which weighed heavily on her lungs. By that time she'd been forced to use oxygen to breathe.
But her growing ailments and added accessories were not stopping her or Aaron from spending as much time together as possible on this Earth.
They discussed marrying in October but quickly changed the date to August.

Amy and Aaron Jackson married in the temple on August 26th.



For those of you not in the church, you should understand that this date - August 26th, 2006 - was the pinnacle moment in Amy's life. Before then, Amy would have claimed her baptism to be her favorite day. But as Mormons, we believe husband and wife can be married not just for their time here on Earth, but forever and ever. We believe that no matter how little time Amy and Aaron would have here, they would have eternity to make up for it.

Aaron and Amy were married for only three months.



Although I'm sure many of you will feel the same sadness that I'm feeling about her death, I know one thing's for sure about Lil Amy. She would not have made a big deal about this. She would have reminded us of her love for the Lord, her love of Jesus Christ, and would have emphasized how wonderful it was that she had the chance to live her life in the Lord's church. She wouldn't be preachy about it. Instead, she'd just be very matter of fact in her powerful and slightly-shaky voice. She would smile. She would laugh. She would remind us of the great blessings in her life and the blessings of the temple. She would tell us how lucky she was to meet a man like Aaron, who made an eternal commitment to her in the Lord's House. She would be grateful to have so many friends. And she'd tell us not to worry if it'd been too long since we'd talked. That was just the way she was. She would have seen death as just one more step in her remarkable journey through life. I'm sure she would even look at it as yet one more battle she'd WON. Because to Amy, every moment and every breath counted. She taught us what living was really about. And thus, her death, follows in the footsteps of her grace.



Here is more information regarding Amy's life, death, and where she's buried. There's also a place on the site to leave your condolences.

If you want to want to feel some more of Amy's energy, warmth, and excitement, read the last post on her blog. As you'll see, it mentions the excitement of love in her life! She was so wonderful, fun, and loving.


Thank you Amy for everything you've done for me. For being my friend. For being an inspiration in everything you did. For never giving up. And for really showing me how to LIVE. You will truly, truly be missed.

joy!

My best-friend-from-forever/very-first-friend/pretty-much-my-sister, Cathy, is engaged!
I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU AND DARREN! HE'S THE LUCKIEST EVER!!!
Congratulations!

Slip 'N Slide

I used to be so jealous of Cathy and her Slip 'N Slide. Even though I used it as much as she, I still coveted one of my own.

I can still sense the rush of diving downhill onto the long yellow strip of plastic. What could easily have been mimicked by taping several garage bags together seemed more appealing in the bright banana color for $29.99.
The garden hose would drizzle water onto the plastic in a swimming snake-like motion. The exhausting heat and humidity of the northern Virginia summer would disappear in an instant. I would clench my teeth in a painful smile as the small twigs and branches skimmed my skin underneath the plastic -- leaving me with red scrapes and scratches all over the front of my body.
It was phenomenal.

I felt a similar rush a couple weeks ago on my way home from work.

It was nearing midnight as I left the tv station. I walked to the Lincoln Center subway station on 66th Street.
As I headed down the second set of stairs, I felt the heel of my right cute boot catch the stair as I lifted it away.

Time seemed to slow down.

The next few millionths of seconds took an eternity. I was fully aware that I was now falling - face forward - down the flight of stairs.
I stopped abruptly at the bottom with my chin used as the brake.

"Miss! Are you alright?" asked a man repeatedly.
I assume he was a tourist as no one else was running to my rescue.

I said nothing and just lay flat taking an internal inventory:
Are my ribs broken?
Can I feel my legs?
Is my face bleeding?
Will I have to go to the hospital?

"I'm okay," I quietly uttered.

I pulled myself up into a seated position and felt a huge bump beginning to form on my chin. My back hurt. My stomach seemed to have twisted and dropped. And my legs felt as if they'd had a visit from Tonya Harding's old boyfriend.

I picked myself up, thanked the man for checking on me, and slowly headed onto the train.

I realize that I'm totally lucky. In fact, I have no idea how I walked away with just scratches and bruises. People die that way.
"Yeah!" my brother agreed. "Remember 'Exorcist?'"

I went home and told my roommates what happened. I was most interested in the feedback from Robert, who's in residency at Columbia Presbyterian. I sat in my room with a bag of frozen peas under my chin and uttered into the hallway, "Robert? I think you should know... I fell down the stairs..."
He rushed in and began firing questions:
Do you remember everything? Did you black out? How badly do things hurt? Can you move alright?

Now I look with disdain at the sign warning "Hold Handrail! 75% of subway injuries are caused by slips, trips, and falls!"

In the past couple weeks, the bruises on my leg have gone from purple, to blue, to green. The knot on my chin is now the size of a kidney bean. I am now a big fan of holding the handrail. And I no longer covet Cathy's yellow piece of plastic.

Ugh.

Sometimes I really miss being a boss at work.

I was never as snooty, lazy, or obnoxious as some of these people. When I am ruler of the world, there will be candy and recess for everyone.

Oh Great!

My jaw dropped with an audible gasp of joy when I saw that ABC (your favorite network) was airing "It's The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown." It's not necessarily because I love this show. Or because I still have yet to pick a costume for Halloween (one of my most FAVORITE "holidays"). And it's not because I'm still searching for a place to wear the said non-costume. Or because Charlie Brown's presence will allow me to have just one more thing to distract me from actually working. It's because I love fall. I just do. And Charlie Brown, Halloween, and great pumpkins remind me that once again the wind is changing, the air grows crisp, and somehow I can just smell joy bouncing through the breezes.
*sigh*

Did you know Snoopy's a beagle just like Watson? I think Watson's even more of a rascal than the Red Baron.

Six Degrees... or None

While discussing a story assignment this afternoon, my co-worker gave me the typical details of a story: the focus, visual elements we have already, and our contact person -- who is Devon White, who is one of my girlfriends from back home.

I keep telling you people that the DC area is God's Country. It brews all sorts of good people. And now, apparently, I believe we're quickly working toward just taking over everything...

Can't wait to hang with Devon on Saturday.

Pictures From Ansley's Visit

If we had taken pictures this past weekend, you would see a shot of my picking up Ansley from JFK Friday night.

Then you would see our late-night girly chat about life, moving to new cities, boys, friends, boyfriends, and my silly pets.

And here you would see a shot of us finally awaking Saturday afternoon to a beautiful day in the city.

Oh yes! Can't forget the pics of us walking all around downtown seeking out the hot spots in the Village! Yummy desserts! More yummy dessert! A shot of Ansley's cute new red necklace. And finally dinner at John's Pizza. Mmmm. Eating pizza next to a picture of Johnny Depp. Two tasty treats.

Sunday is our day of MORE walking. We both split up for a bit to meet up with some of our old college buds. I met up with Arvis (doesn't he look just the same as five years ago?) and she met with Serge, who we both decided is the world's best husband (even though he left his sick wife at home to come hang out with us...). Of course, here is where I would show you the cool antique shops we hit up -- and the cute, chunky green necklace Ansley bought. I bought nothing but received a phone call from work asking me to come in. Couldn't do it though. We were having too much fun!
We continued down to Union Square where I bought some cute shoes and boots. Ansley absorbed the new Trader Joe's -- and we avoided the checkout lines wrapping around the store.
We grabbed some food and headed home where I realized my new "black" pumps were, in fact, dark brown. This is where I would post a pic of them and ask, "Don't these look like black to you???"

Monday. On the agenda: exchange shoes for actual black pair. Do even more walking. Hit up shops in midtown. Meet up for lunch with my friend Ashley (sister of my sixth grade crush). I've known Ashley most of my life but it took until her recent visits to New York for us to reconnect and become good friends. She's adorable. Just look at her picture, right?
Monday also included our venture to the City Bakery. Apparently this cute little spot is known for its "hot chocolate." We prefer to refer to it as "lukewarm chocolate soup." It was disgusting.

Ansley headed back to Salt Lake on Tuesday. If I were producing this well, you'd see a nice shot of her waving goodbye from a seemingly desolate departure drop-off.


Glad I could share all these nice pictures with you.


My father the photog would be so proud, wouldn't he?

Grammar Goddess

In light of my other post provided with help from dictionary.com, I found this appropriate to also post. It's an email I received from my dear KATU cohort, Matt.

Ever seen “Dirty Harry” with Clint Eastwood? Mark Sutton gave me a quote that makes me think of you:

“I know what you’re thinking, punk,” hissed Wordy Harry to his new editor. “You’re thinking, ‘Did he use six superfluous adjectives or only five?’ – and to tell the truth, I forgot myself in all this excitement; but being as this is English, the most powerful language in the world, whose subtle nuances will blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself one question: ‘Do I feel loquacious?’ Well, do you, punk?”

Cheers,
Matt

Feeling Grody

nau‧seous  [naw-shuhs, -zee-uhs] –adjective
1. affected with nausea; nauseated: to feel nauseous.
2. causing nausea; sickening; nauseating.
3. disgusting; loathsome: a nauseous display of greed.

nau‧se‧ate  [naw-zee-eyt, -zhee-, -see-, -shee-] verb, -at‧ed, -at‧ing.
–verb (used with object)
1. to affect with nausea; sicken.
2. to cause to feel extreme disgust: His vicious behavior toward the dogs nauseates me.
–verb (used without object)
3. to become affected with nausea.

Usage Note: Traditional critics have insisted that nauseous is properly used only to mean “causing nausea” and that it is incorrect to use it to mean “affected with nausea,” as in Roller coasters make me nauseous. In this example, nauseated is preferred by 72 percent of the Usage Panel. Curiously, though, 88 percent of the Panelists prefer using nauseating in the sentence The children looked a little green from too many candy apples and nauseating (not nauseous) rides. Since there is a lot of evidence to show that nauseous is widely used to mean “feeling sick,” it appears that people use nauseous mainly in the sense in which it is considered incorrect. In its “correct” sense it is being supplanted by nauseating.

Coney Island

A few weeks ago Steph and I headed to Coney Island for the day.


She thought it would be good to take her shoes off and call her family to brag about the good time we were having.



Then she added to her seashell collection.



Steph's very picky about which shells are worthy for her to keep.







I was trying to get as close to the water as I could without getting my feet wet.


Steph said, "Hey Tam! Let me take your picture!"






But then the water came in and got my jeans wet.












We'll be back soon I'm sure... and I will remember to wear shorts.

A Science Experiment

Aluminum foil + lamp = bad idea

Inspiration

One of the many things I love about my friends is their willingness to dream, conquer, and inspire. I have no idea how I became so lucky.

Here's a copy of an email I wrote to Lumina yesterday. I wanted to share it with you because, well, it just goes to show how we tend to inspire each other without even knowing it. Plus, it shows what's going on inside my head lately.

I just posted a comment on your blog about your I AM AN ARTIST entry.

I just want to let you know how grateful I am for you, your art, your fearlessness for your craft, and for your daringness to do what scares the hell out of you.

You are courageous. You are defiant! You are an artist!

I started singing lessons a few weeks ago. And I think I'm going to begin acting classes again. I'm SO SCARED. I'm scared because I used to be good. I used to believe in myself. I used to take risks. But I was never good ENOUGH. I could only allow myself to plumb just deep enough so that a character was sufficient. But didn't take the risks I needed to make my characters real, survive, breathe, feel as if true flesh... any of it. And I'm scared. I'm scared because I know if I go back into this that I can't do it half-assed. I know I owe those characters part of me. I know I owe it to myself to take those risks. And I know that it will make me different. It will set me apart. It will bring out my insecurities. It will make me feel imperfect. It will make me realize that sometimes, I don't do everything wonderfully well.

And then there will be those moments. Those rare moments when the world of art and reality collide. When you feel as if time has stopped and locked you into an unknown universe -- a place where dreams exist. A place you never want to leave in that instant. And I think it's those moments of actual artistry that I fear. The ultimate escape. The ultimate high. The ultimate point of intimacy.

That's reality.

And I know, more than anything, that that's why I need to take the risk, tear myself down once again, and just dive.

To Live...

To live as I sing...
breathe
relax
focus
but don't think too hard or you'll mess it all up
let your body do what it knows how to do
feel

To live as I run...
put one foot in front of the other
look upon the horizon
take a break if you need it
go as far as you can
don't underestimate yourself (you can do 26.2!)
breathe
relax

What are some ways you'd like to live your life?

Humpty Dumpty

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king's horses and all the king's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again.







I think I fell off the wall about 10 years ago.

Finally, I feel as if mind, body, and spirit are reconnecting with an even stronger foundation that I've ever had.

My realization?
I didn't need the king's horses and king's men as much as I needed help from myself.

Bonnie the Brave: 8 Lives Remaining

So... yeah.

My cat, Bonnie fell out of our window.

Three stories up.

Yep.

I noticed she was missing Friday afternoon. She tends to hide in this big home, so at first I thought she might just be sitting underneath something. And then I noticed -- one of our windows was open.
I looked down onto what lies 30 feet below -- a small patio in the midst of many backyards and a few trees for her to climb and make a clear getaway into freedom. R&B music blared from a nearby window, nearly drowning any calls I made.
I yelled out, "Bonnie!!!!" And I could have sworn she responded with a soft meow.
Is it really she? Just my imagination?

I switched into tv news producer mode and began the search, made flyers, and contacted anyone and everyone who I could think of who would help me find her.

Around six o'clock my neighbors below us finally came home and checked their backyard. And there she was, curled up in a little ball next to a tall tree. She began purring the instant I picked her up. I noticed she was limping a little.

Off to the animal E.R.
Xrays, heart check, and blood work.

All systems are a go! Nothing's wrong with her! No fractures or anything. Just maybe a pulled muscle. And a bruised ego.

A bad birthday?

A woman turning 35 is not the end of the world, right?

Well maybe for me!

Apparently, many New Agers predict December 21, 2012 as a potential DOOMSDAY! Can you believe it? Check out this link to the latest Newsweek article!

The pagan in me adores all things that have anything to do with astronomy, astrology, earthiness, indigenous religions, and pretty much anything else remotely spiritually interesting.

And here I thought my thirties would be EASIER than my 20s! Who knew?!

This is just one more reason why my birthday is so important. Mark the calendar kiddos. I'll be a spritely 29 this year and I can't wait! I was born an old-soul, so I believe I will rediscover youthful freedoms as I get older...

If nothing else, newly-married Lisa, newly-married Ashley, and my sister-in-law will at least find this post interesting. Happy nine-month birthday girls! :)

Be Still My Beating Heart

This is why I love men...

Two of my friends from work walked past me. A single woman, and a darling, married man.

Woman: (pointing down) I love these shoes! I just got them for 15 bucks!

Man: Really? (in a genuinely interested, non-gay way)


His wife has apparently trained him well.

A Good Quote

Joy Behar:
I think the thirties are a very good decade to really be honest with yourself so that your forties will be wonderful. The twenties are the worst. Not as bad as the teen years, but they're not good for a woman. There's too much pressure on us to be thin, to be pretty, to meet the right guy, to get the right job, to have babies… they really don't know when to stop! And then as you get older you say, "Screw this! I'm just gonna do what I do!" The twenties are very, very demanding. I think women should take note of the fact that they may not get through their twenties in one piece.

Changes All Around Us

I don't know what the deal is with this time of year but there are so many changes going on! It seems as if everyone-and-his-mother is getting married, moving, or expecting a kid.
Please share your excitement with me and let me know what wonderful events are happening in your life!

Why I Love Craigslist

Last weekend I found a bed on Craigslist. It turns out the person who posted the ad was only a couple blocks away.
Josh offered to help me move it. We hopped into my car, drove two blocks, and piled the mattress and boxspring on top of the roof. Josh, being the good guy he is, ended up doing most of the carrying. I, being the wuss I am, did most of the watching.

Today I saw a post on Craigslist for a trunk. You know... one of those wooden boxes that women used to store their quilts at the foot of the bed. The woman wrote back and told me she would be available to show me the trunk tomorrow afternoon and then told me she where she lived. Signs it with her name: Aspen.

Aspen lives in the apartment below me.

First Day at Work

It's been almost a year since I've worked. It was nice to be somewhere and know that I would eventually get paid. I'm freelancing for GMA. I'm really looking forward to it.

In a few days I'll post about my drive back here to New York. It was fantastic, full of adventure, and filled with blessings and close-calls all along the way.

I like my apartment. It's up in the boonies. I'm living in a Dominican neighborhood. I'm quickly recognizable as the blondie. Plus people pay attention to me when they see Watson. He's an attention hog.

My roommates are great. I'm living with 2 boys, 1 girl, 3 cats, and 2 dogs. My one roomie (the other girl) hasn't officially moved in with her cat and dog yet, so it will be even more chaotic than it already is. Thank goodness we have lots of space. The boys are upstairs and the girls are downstairs. We have a good group: an actor, a doctor, a horticulturalist, and a journalist. Should be good times.

I know. This post is not really too exciting. But I'm tired. And I felt as if I were due a post.

Lookin' at Liberty

Before I left New York in May, I decided to see some sites. So this is a pic of me on the ferry to the Statue of Liberty.





I was joined by my "first friend," Cathy. We're the same age and grew up seven houses away from each other. Her mom took care of me while mine was at work. So basically she's my sister. I was also there with my mom and Cathy's boyfriend, Darren (good name).
I suppose this picture speaks for itself.
When I look at this statue I think of my father's family arriving at Ellis Island in 1908 from Slovakia. Amazing.
Ellis Island was finally renovated in the last 15 years. I'm so glad it's no longer an empty blackened building. It's now a museum that tells the story of the millions of immigrants hoping for better lives -- including several members of my family.




Here I am with a statue of Joseph Pulitzer (pronounced "puhl-it-sir" not "pyoo-lit-sir"). He founded Columbia's School of Journalism in 1903. Originally he pitched the idea to Harvard but they turned their noses up to him. So he took the idea to Columbia and developed what's now known as the "world-renowned" #1 journalism school.
At least that's what the P.R. department tells me.

Oh My. A Post?

Top 10 things that might appear in the near future on this blog:

1. Details and pictures outlining the events and adventures while I trekked through Europe
2. Why I decided to bail on my DC trip at the last-minute
3. How much I adored my trip to L.A.
4. My confusion about the acronyms "DC" and "L.A." and why they aren't consistent with one another.
5. My master's project and how you can hear it
6. My "Welcome Home" party
7. My "See Ya' Later" party
8. The "job" in New York
9. Why I haven't posted in two months
10. The pictures from my cross-country trip back to the big city

I plan to pack up the car and begin the drive to New York on Monday. My co-pilots are Bonnie and Watson. I haven't exactly landed a place to live yet. But some good news: I just bought four new tires for the Jetta. At least I will have a nice car to live in as a back-up plan.
I've decided to stop freaking out about my uncertain future. I'm now at the point where I'm accepting whatever is ahead of me. I'm blessed that I'm in a position where I can take risks like this.
Maren is getting married in a few weeks and will stay in my house. All of my "stuff" (well, most of it) will be stored in the garage until sometime when I finally land a full-time job somewhere.

So, when I make my way to a computer that has high-speed internet (and when I feel moved to do so) I'll post some more stuff. In the meantime, thanks for checking in with me!
Onto New York!

Graduation

Here I am: graduate of the inaugural master of arts class of the world-renowned Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism.

Sounds fancy, eh?









And look who came!
My mom and her best friend, Mary!







But where's my brother, Darren?






Oh yeah. He's taking all these pictures!
"Smile girls!"




And what luck! In the crowd of tens-of-thousands, Darren spotted my dear friend, Kelly, on the street! She's out here from Portland celebrating her sister's graduation from Columbia. (Congrats Andrea!)





And check out this sexy squad. These are my Arts and Culture Journalism sisters (we call ourselves the "Art Cult"). We spent the last nine months in constant companionship. I love them so much!
Thank you Doree, Natasha, Elva, Adrienne, and Katie! And Congratulations girls!




What Would Adorno Do about this?!

Winner!

Okay kids. I'm typically one of those whiney types who says, "Awww... I never win anything."

But not today!

Last night I waited in line for lottery tickets to Wicked. Here's how it works: you sign up for a drawing and if they pick your name you get front-row seats.

My mom's in town. We signed up, waited, and made plans for what we would do after we lost. But NO! Backup plans weren't needed! We won!

Last night was the fourth time I'd played the lottery. I'm so glad I finally won because it was my only idea for a Mother's Day present.

The show was as wonderful as my friends have been telling me for months and months! I loved it!

So I've decided the winds are changing and luck is in my favor. What could be next? A new job? A trip to Europe???

Duh(n)

After nine months of cracking my brain open, creeping into its dusty corners, and pulling out as many fresh ideas as I could, I'm now letting it all turn to slush.

Today was my last day of graduate school.

I'm so excited for whatever's next.

Once again, I've fallen in love with journalism. And I've found a new love with it: radio.

So we'll see where the journey of life takes me with all this. My only goal is to keep it interesting.

Graduation is next Wednesday, May 17th. Then I'm off to Europe and then back to Portland. It's time to celebrate!

A New Game

The weather is warming and so are the subways. So I suppose that means it's time for me to play a new game I'm calling, "What's That Smell?"

Anjali has come up with an alternate version, called "What's That Smear?" in reference to the marks on the poles in the subway cars.

Nice.

I only have a few days of finals left before officially not having a gameplan. I suppose if there are no gameplans, at least there are games.

Maren's Kicking Me OUT!

Because she's getting MARRIED!!!!!

Congratulations Maren and Jonathan!

I guess this means I need to move out by August, huh? Sheesh. Couldn't get me to move back to New York quickly enough, eh???

Naptime

After several months of freaking out about my master's project, it's finally time to relax! Okay, not really. I still have a couple weeks of work left and need to find a job, but whatever.

Point is -- I'm done with my project!

Graduation is now just a couple weeks away. Afterward, I'm heading off to Prague to hang out with Ruthie. Then I'll meet up with my mom in London for a few days. (Thank you Mom and your frequent flyer miles!!!) And then it's back to Portland for a bit.

I plan on having a party the first Saturday in June, so block out some time in the evening to celebrate, okay?

Also, I've decided to come back to New York. I don't know when, but I figure now is the time to do it. I don't have a job or a place to live, but I suppose that will all be figured out over time.

I will post something longer and more interesting after finals.
Thanks so much for your support and interest in my life over the past few months!

One More Month

So I'm almost done with this whole thing. My thesis is finally gaining its own feel. It's been an organic experience. Hopefully it turns out okay.
I graduate in less than a month and have no idea what's next. I keep telling people I'm thinking of being a dog walker/subway singer.
I'm looking for work but if nothing comes up then whatever. Watson will just get to spend more time with me during the day...

Other than school, life is going really well. Nothing exactly special to report. But I must say, I'm in an extremely good place right now. Maybe it's the sun finally peeking out. Maybe it's the lack of stress even though it's crunch time. Maybe it's the good people in my life.
Or maybe I'm just happy.

Whatever it is, things are good. Even with unemployment and uncertainty in my future.

Now at Your NY Newsstand

Check out my roommate Anjali's debut in the New York Times.

Choosing a College

The approaching Final Four has me reminiscing upon my horribly frightening experience of which college I should choose to attend.

Now let's just get one thing out in the open before someone is sorely mistaken about my knowledge of sports.
I suck at sports. My friends from my childhood can vouch for me. I was always the weird kid who went to acting class on Saturdays when my friends went to little league softball. I went to arts camp during the summer while everyone else played soccer.
In high school I finally attempted to take on team sports.
I played field hockey and lacrosse. Although I loved playing, the message was clear: I needed to stick to the stage.

I will likely never be the girlfriend who understands anything and everything about sports. It took me an entire football season of asking an old boyfriend what "first and ten" meant before I finally understood.
But I want the boyfriend who loves sports and who will take me to games and won't mind my lack of knowledge.
I adore going to baseball games. I want someone who will enjoy attending baseball games and the theater with me. But he will have to understand that of all sports, lacrosse will always remain my favorite.

Okay. Now that I've shared a little about what I want from my future, here's a little nugget from my past.

Applying to college was a mess for me. My stepfather had died a few months before applications were due and it basically sent my life in a different direction than I had hoped or planned. I applied to several colleges with Northwestern as my top pick. I loved everything about it. And I didn't get in. Other schools that rejected me: Yale, UVA, and Carnegie-Mellon (bombed my audition for its opera conservatory. Worst audition of my life). After my horrible audition for CMU, I decided to neglect my other auditions. I had no idea what I wanted.
I remember my mother getting me up at four in the morning to drive me through a snowstorm to the train station. I had scheduled an audition in New York for UCLA's theatre department. (Both my mother and grandmother had graduated from the school so it made sense for me to apply.) As we approached the train station I started to cry. "Mom. I don't want to go to UCLA."
I felt horrible. I hadn't properly prepared for my audition. I waited until the last minute as the snow pounded down onto our car to say something. I felt as if I were a failure. Needless to say, UCLA took me out of its pool.
I also failed to audition for Northwestern's Drama School. Same with Yale.
I was feeling desperate.
I grabbed two applications from schools that had been sending me information for about a year. I grabbed a pencil and filled out applications to George Mason University and Roanoke College last minute. I got into both.
It was a blessing. By that time I'd learned about my father's cancer diagnosis, so staying relatively near the DC area would be good.
George Mason was tempting. It was close to home (45 minutes away). But my mother told me that even if I chose to attend the school I would have to live on campus; she wasn't going to let me live at home and avoid the full "college experience." So I chose Roanoke. I figured four hours was far enough away to pretend to be a grown-up but close enough to get my laundry done.
It turned out to be the best decision for me.

And now, as I face a major turning point in my life, I face similar decisions and challenges. Will I let fear take over and avoid taking risks? Will I chicken-out at the last minute? Will the last-minute backup plan turn out to be the best?
These are all wonderful thoughts. I suppose the best thing to remember is that God is looking out for me and really knows what's best in the long run.









So as the Final Four approaches and I wonder "UCLA or George Mason?" I suppose the answer is obvious.

Springing Forward

Spring has sprung and so have I.

It's now less than a month until my master's project is due, so I'm in a sprint to the deadline. I'm also trying to figure out where I'd like to go next in my life. Where do I want to live? What do I want to do? It's quite exciting! I don't really feel pressure to find a job as much as I feel as if I'm free to do whatever I want. Refreshing.


My Spring Break was fun. I spent a few days in Portland. Among the events was Kaarina's bridal shower. Here she is with her new apron. And here's Kadra, who hosted the party. Isn't she cute?


And I also took this pic of Skye.

Apparently these are all the pictures I took. But hey, I was only back there for three days, so oh well. Even though it was a quick trip I managed to see most of my friends and family there! Woo hoo!
Ansley had some people over pre-church, I hung out with Darren and the fam, and I went out with my KATU friends for dinner. I even had a marriage proposal by our waiter. I'm still wondering why I didn't answer yes... He was cute! And funny!

I cancelled my trip to Utah and came straight back to New York to work on the master's project. And now that will be my life (along with other school work) for the next month or so. Alas dear friends, I might not be blogging so much in the meantime, but please feel free to send me some loves!

Happy Spring!

My Wings

First grade.
I made my first pair out of purple poster board with help from my mother.

I stood on stage and fidgeted with the elastic over my shoulders that were holding up the heavy winged cutouts flapping on my back. It was then that I walked up to a microphone and sang my first solo.

Since then my wings have changed dramatically as I take some time, step into my soul, and figure out my next plan.




Sometimes when my wings are dusty I feel the presence of angels looking over me and offering me strength not only to fly but to stand.




Right now I'm donning a new pair.
I keep wondering what they'll look like when they fully develop.
I get small glimpses as I peel away old layers from this well-worn cocoon. From what I see there's something beautiful inside just waiting to come out.

I have no idea where I'll take my new accessories or how well I'll wear them. But I plan to flaunt their striking essence because they'll be mine.
I can already feel the air sweeping underneath them.

He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying. -Friedrich Nietzsche

I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man. -Chang Tzu

I am very grateful for a husband who always lets me do my own thing... He never insists that I do anything his way, or any way for that matter. From the very beginning he gave me space and let me fly. -Marjorie Hinckley

Friends and Lovers

I'm being spoiled with more visitors!

This picture describes two of my friends perfectly: Allison in the forefront with a silly joyful smile and Nick standing in the background looking as if he's mostly serious.

They came in town last weekend and we scoured Manhattan. I loved it. Every time I'm with this duo I just feel grounded and at home. They're fantastic.

I worked with Allison back at "The Deuce" in Portland for a few years. Then she left me for Boston when Nick became an even bigger nerd than before (as if it were possible) and made it into MIT where's he's now pursuing a Ph.D in Astro-Physics. Allison still works in television.

Allison and Nick bring out the best in each other and I feel as if I'm a better person just by knowing them. They're not an uber-couple or anything. They're just real.

These two have been together for a few years. They met through one of their mutual friends and hit it off right away. After she met him it was as if she became a clearer and fuller version of herself than she'd been with other boyfriends. She was fearless about her pursuit, whereas before she was more calculated and stressed. Somehow she just knew Nick was it.

It's funny watching your friends when they meet the person they will spend the rest of their lives with. There's something distinctly different about them. I can remember the moment with each of my friends when I realized they'd met someone different. In some cases I was able to figure it out before they did!
I think it's kinda' magical actually.
I love being around couples like that.

The same goes for Kelly and Dylan. I was able to talk to Kelly for several hours this weekend about their relationship.

Yes, these pics are old but I don't care. I like them.

Kelly and I met a few years ago. The first conversation we ever had together I knew we'd be lifelong friends. Have you ever had that feeling?
Kelly has the uncanny ability to philosophize and be silly in the same sitting. Plus, she laughs at my jokes, so you know she's a shoo-in.


Dylan and I have been friends for a few years. We used to sit next to each other in church so people would think we were dating. I had a philosophy at the time that it might make us appear more appealing to those who'd want to date us if we seemed unavailable. [He ended up married so maybe it kinda' worked...?]

It was totally weird watching two of my closest friends fall in love with each other. Weird in a good way. Kinda' like that magic thing I was just mentioning.

Last Friday Kelly and I talked about her transition from "dater" to "mater" and the changes we both noticed. It's so great talking about it!
This month marks their one year wedding anniversary. Bliss!

Yes, the romantic in me has come to fruition as a result of my fun little thesis. At least it's been fun so far! I almost have too many good interviews and angles. I just hope it turns out well. If nothing else, I'm meeting more people which is always the best!

Up next for me: I'm heading to P-Town this Friday for a quick trip. On the agenda: taxes, DMV, family/pets, friends, and Kaarina's bridal shower.
Yea Kaarina and Forrest!
Then the following Tuesday I head to SLC for a couple days to do some "research." I'll be back in the big city in time for St. Paddy's Day.

Good times.

Drama

I love the theatre.
I always have.

One of the things we learn in the theatre is how to be in the moment, how to communicate, and how to purely present ourselves.

So why is it that when we use the phrase, "that person is so dramatic" it means that he or she is over the top? Interesting.

Lately I've been noticing people who are dramatic in this ironic sense. And I've noticed that we spend a lot of time blowing things way out of proportion when it comes to relationships between men and women.
Why do we make things so difficult when it comes to relationships? I don't get it. If it's something that's right, won't it just kinda' work?
I'm far from an expert, so I don't know the right answer to that question.

I asked my adorable 98-year-old grandfather a few months ago what it was that drew him to my grandmother. He said, "We just gelled, y'know?"

I'm not suggesting that relationships are easy. But I am suggesting that we try to avoid freaking out about every little thing.
Hey, don't get me wrong. I'm totally guilty of this too. Maybe even the most guilty... and that's likely why I'm bringing it up.

What I hope is that we can each learn how to function in relationships as we would on stage by being in the moment, communicating, and being true about how we're presenting ourselves. What a relief it would be if we could each master that skill.

Time for an Upgrade

Friday night, I headed a few blocks away for dinner. My cute purse sat nestled under my chair carefully placed between my feet. One minute it was there. The next: gone.
I checked, double-checked, checked, checked, checked. No bag.

Frustrating. But not the end of the world.
Thankfully I was graced with the presence of a man who didn't freak out about it. We waited for the cops to come, filed a police report, and played tic-tac-toe while I called to cancel my credit cards. You know... the usual date stuff.

Items listed as victims of "grand larceny":
purse: new, black, cute
driver's license: priceless, picture I actually liked
Visas (2): cancelled
health insurance card
wallet: red, nice, leather
ear bags: off-white
gum: Eclipse, winterfrost, 8 pieces
ticket stub from play I saw Tuesday night
pen: black, bic, ball point
gloves: tan, warm, fleece
cash: nearly nothing
metrocard: $6 remaining
phone: cute pics of pets, phone numbers, text messages
batteries: AA, three new, 1 old
minidisc: new, unused
lip gloss: MAC, light pink, little left but oh-so-missed
lipstick: it lasted me years, perfect color
fancy new lip balm: gifted to me from my brother for Valentine's Day

Apparently I'm into lip products. Or at least I was until yesterday.

I had luckily taken my radio equipment out of my purse before we left my place. The new iPod remained safely on my desk. I almost even left my wallet at home. But yeah.

So what now?
It's time for an upgrade.

I picked up a cheap phone as a replacement today but plan to exchange it for something better when I head to Portland in a couple weeks.
I mean really. If I get stuff taken from me that I like, am I really going to replace it with things that are less worthy? Yes, I realize it's just "stuff" but whatever.

I've been due for upgrades on many levels for quite some time.
And now I'm cashing in.

There are times in our lives when we deal with things in certain ways because we're just used to dealing with them. But as we change, grow, improve... those old things are no longer needed.

And that's where I am now.
I'm done.
It's now time for newer and better.

Fills My Heart!

Cutest picture ever of Watson and his Auntie Maren!

Old Friends. Good Times.

This past weekend I had a few visitors in town!
Saturday night I met up with my sweet and beautiful friend, Molly Lynn. I haven't seen her in six years!
I know Molly through my sorority, Chi Omega.

[She's my "Grand Lil' One" if you speak Greek.]
We watched Marlowe's Edward II at Julliard, where her brother's finishing up school. It was such fun!

Then I headed down to SoHo to hang out with Edmond and his wife, Amy.
They were up from DC to visit Amy's brother, Michael.

I've known Edmond since fifth grade. Every time we're together we re-tell the story about the time I told Ms. Williams that Edmond was cheating on his spelling test. Ed ran down to the boys' room and tried to hide by crouching on a toilet.
Personally, my favorite story from grade school involves my catching him groovin' to New Kids on the Block on our school trip to New York. For some reason, Edmond forgives me for all the annoyance I caused him then. We were the best of friends in middle school and high school. I love that guy. And when I met Amy a few years ago we hit it off immediately. She's perfect! The two of them together: amazing.
I haven't seen them since their wedding last summer, so it was SO GREAT hanging with them last weekend.

And more good stuff to report.
Guess who got her new fancy little iPod?

Progress

Today I mourn something I never had

The beauty of reality
refreshing

I embrace myself
allowing my inner thoughts to weave

My love for a new life ahead
clears away the chaos from my past
and leaves idealized hearts alone

Finally

I refuse a falsified version
of a nonexistent present

Years and years of old habit
now sit to the side
no longer needed

Pandora's Box wide open
ready to be analyzed
organized

I've paralyzed my heart no more
Forgiven myself for taking so long
And now open for a newer version
of something equally as beautiful

Why I Love TV

I can only hope that someday I will produce something as good as this.

Reflective Valentine

A Valentine story.

A few years ago my then-boyfriend and I went out to a fancy Japanese restaurant to celebrate our annual Cupid Crisis. He was broke and a loser and I paid.
We went home and I gave him these cute presents I'd spent weeks finding. He was essentially unimpressed.
I woke up the next morning with the worst food poisoning I've ever had. It lasted for two days.

What's the deal with Valentine's Day?

My family loves it; boyfriends suck at it.


I loved Valentine's Day in high school. Every year I would sell something for a student government fundraiser. That way I could be out of class all day and spend my time delivering flowers and candy-grams.
Candy-grams.
Do people do those anymore?

My friends and I still get into Singles Awareness Day. We send each other cute valentines and comfort those who are longing for lovers.
It's a day for me to hug people without them thinking I'm silly.
It was apparently my grandmother's favorite "holiday." My mom has always been really into it. This year both my mom and my brother sent me valentine presents!

I did a few things yesterday, but I finished off the day by spending it with two of my roommates,
Anjali and Paola

We went to a restaurant down the street and were welcomed by a surly woman who told us 'no, we couldn't get the window seat we'd reserved' and that due to an electrical problem, they weren't able to make many items on the menu.
Nice.

It was a good time, though. And no food poisoning to report this morning.

Some Snow

Working with meteorologists has taught me well.

There have been a few times when I've been called in the middle of the night to rush in for an "unexpected" storm. I would then spend the next few days at the station and would sleep a few hours at the hotel nearby.
And then there are the moments when I would have to work on the weekend for an "expected" accumulation but little happens.

So when I heard we were expecting a foot of snow here, I doubted it would really happen.

And I was right! Instead we received TWO feet of snow!
Okay, granted. I was expecting a flurry. But the fact remains I was still correct.

Saturday night the snow began to fall. About six inches had fallen onto cars by the time we came home -- enough to throw snowballs at each other.

And then, my recent bout of insomnia helped me awake at 7:30 to realize that I was in a beautiful winter wonderland.
The streets were quiet except for the electronic snow blowers and the occasional person walking a dog and those who went to church.



Today the streets and sidewalks were clear, but it made for some huge snowbanks on the side of the road. Check that out! Granted, the guy in this picture isn't that tall, but c'mon! Is that crazy or what?



I imagine cars will be stuck in their places for days!











The school - although beautiful in any season - wears snow well too.












But this is the cutest thing of all that I saw on my walk home. This little girl, who couldn't be more than two-and-a-half, was absolutely fascinated by this friend-sized snowman. It made my day.

A Shout Out

Sometimes I want to gather all my friends in a room, look at all of them, and just sit in wonderment over how lucky I am.

I don't mean to bust on your friends, but I think my friends are cooler than anyone else's.

And I don't mean to name-drop, but my very first friend, Cathy, is still one of the most important people to me today. She was born three months after I was and lived seven houses down from me. So we were basically raised as sisters.
Now how many people are still best friends with their first friends? And how many actually know who their first friend was?

Exactly.

And the rest of my childhood friends still bless me with their presence and give me continual love and support. See how lucky I am?

When I moved to Portland, I somehow ended up in a time when all the stars were perfectly aligned in my favor. I met so many people who qualify in different ways as a perfect friend. While the love from Kelly and Ansley continues to take many forms, you can be most grateful that they convinced me to try on the Long and Lean jeans from The Gap. What a joyous day for my booty...
And my friend, Tracey, kept me from walking out of my job and now keeps me from walking home from the airport.

Although many of my friends are still in Portland, most of my P-Town loves have left. [I guess chances are that you're one of them.] Even though I've left too, I still feel as if my connection is just as strong now as it was when I lived there. In some cases, the distance has allowed my friendships to grow stronger.

I'm one of the lucky ones. My friends from my whole life are now in so many places all over the world and yet they still keep in touch with me. Blogs, emails, and cell phones have helped me keep this huge, loving circle of support. Somehow I keep meeting and collecting more and more wonderful people. And as a bonus, I also get to be friends with everyone in my family.
Sometimes I fear I'll max out. Can anyone really be as lucky as I to have so many friends?

I've been so blessed with a wonderful life and with so many incredible people who have explored parts of my journey with me. There are vivid moments I can see in my memory that ring true the words my mother has repeated since I was very little: friends last longer than boyfriends.
I've had friends hold my hand through times when I thought I couldn't go on. I've had friends who wouldn't leave me alone when I thought it would be best for me. I even have one friend who saved my life.

So thank YOU for helping keep me sane (a challenge the gods are still trying to figure out) and for listening to me even when I have no idea what I'm talking about (which tends to be most of the time). I have no idea where I'd be without any and every one of you.

Sometimes when I think of all the blessings in my life I feel as if I'm secretly God's favorite.

Shameless Promotions

My friend, Emily, has put up one of the best blog posts I've seen yet. It's a beautiful stream of wishes contributed by random guests. So please check it out and post your anonymous wish here into the Wishing Well.

Remember that obnoxious thing I did a couple years ago? That thing called a marathon? That thing many of you helped me with by donating lots of money for cancer research?
Well... it will be some time until I run my next one, but I have been able to somehow coerce my dear Maren to run her first half-marathon with Team In Training!
Sucker!
In her first week of training she managed to trip during a training run, head to the E.R., and get nine stitches on her knee. So she needs some support to get her to the finish line.
She's raising money for the same group I ran for: The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (blood cancers).
Please log onto Maren's website and donate at least $10 to the cause. Your tax deductible gift will not only help get her to the finish line but it will also help with much-needed cancer research.
Besides, the closer we get her to her fundraising goal the less likely she will feel the urge to move out of my house and leave Bonnie, Watson, and Romeo as revenge for my convincing her to do this whole race. Please help!

Let's Try This Again

I just deleted my other post for today. Sorry. I'm cutting and pasting part of it here, though.

The past two or three days I've been in a crappy mood. But my support group rushed in to help me get back on track. I have no idea what I'd do without all you guys in my life. Really. You make my ups and downs worth experiencing.

So here's my new post.
With exciting news...

I have changed my thesis topic AGAIN.
That's right! AGAIN!!!
These past few weeks I've been struggling with my other topic. Last night I decided to throw in the towel and come up with a new pitch for a story I really wanted to do.
This time I'm excited about my topic! Know why? Because I'm going to do it on singles in the LDS Church. My advisor likes the idea too!

Ah. Loveliness.

I wish I could always work on things I loved or ideas I thought were exciting. Wouldn't that be ideal?

Other things that have been going on (with the recommended revisions made by my dear friend, Ansley)...

I've been having my re-occurring nightmare. Typically I only have it once or twice a year. But I've now had it twice in the last week. It's not a scary nightmare, but it's emotionally draining. I don't know how you are with these nightmares, but for me it takes every ounce of energy and focus out of my body. And the sad part is, I really don't want this dream to ever go away because it's the only time I get to see my father.

I've been investing in a friendship with a guy... and I feel as if I'm acting 12. I think that's all I feel like saying about that.

One of my professors has been hitting on me. He's creepy. Very creepy. He's only teaching us a six week course, so he only has a few more classes with us.
His annoying actions have been going on for a little more than a week. At first I didn't know what to think about it. I was wondering what I was doing to bring it on. But yesterday I learned that at least three other women in my class were being hit on by him too!
So... I marched upstairs and told the dean. I know. The high school student-body president/all-around success and goody-goody in me kicked in. The dean was grossed out and grateful.
I mean really. We're adults. If I were interested in him, I might not mind... after my grade was turned in. Knowing that other women have been dealing with the same thing makes me feel so much better in a way.

I have been making more friends! My big goal for the year was to make new friends and so far I've had some great success! This is the best thing so far. I'm still taking applications for more boys in my life so feel free to send any my way. My program of 27 people has 6 men in it. And I go to church with single Mormons, so by default I know probably only 6 more.

My career services people are trying to help find me a job. The possibility of my staying here is looking high. But that's only if I get a job. I think I would like to stay until I get the city out of my system. I feel the same way about working in television.
Today I met with a vice-president from an organization I'd like to work with. And then I found out the salary (yikes) without benefits (ack! run!). So... yeah. We'll see what happens when May comes.

I've been "running" again. I'm procrastinating a lot by blogging, emailing, and looking up iTunes. And that's about it.

So that's my update.

Ansley, did I do well on my revisions? :)

Boys are Stinky

I've had a few boyfriends in my lifetime. They've all been good learning experiences. In some cases, I've even ended up making friends out of them.

And then I went into retirement. I took a loooong vacation from boys, men, and boyish men.

Why is it that once I finally come out of hibernation I realize that going back inside my cave is probably best?

My stepdad once told me, "When it comes to women, all men are 13 year old boys."
He was in his 60s at the time. I think he was right.

But sometimes women are silly too.

What I Want

I'm an indecisive person.

In fact, when I was recently asked if I were indecisive I answered, "ummm... gosh, I don't know."

I've been thinking about what I want out of life for a long, long time. I always wanted kids but until a few years ago was uncertain about a husband. I want to have a great career, but for the past three years I've been in a serious "what's next" mode. So now I think I'm ready to write down what I want and to tell you as my witness.

I want a family.
For several years, I've lived my life kinda' like a Duncan Hines chocolate cake: all the necessities are there and you just need to add eggs and water. Except in my situation, I've had everything and just needed to add the family. I have the house(s), the family-friendly pets, the solid career, the investments, and even money tucked away for a child's future college fund.
Some people call that success.
I call it surviving.

My mother helped me realize this a couple years ago when I confessed my overly-financially-invested lifestyle. She called me "un-American" for not borrowing enough money... and she told me to stop living my life as if I were married with children.
I realized she was right.
I'd so badly wanted the life my brother had that I'd falsified my own living situation. The reality was that I was single and that it was time I started allowing myself to live that way. My only problem was that I'd become so successful at being single that I avoided allowing romance and love into my life.

I want to live a life I love.
Sometimes I feel as if I live my life to impress myself. Or I feel as if I live so other people will like me. Or I live my life to impress God. Or I live in a way to avoid feeling guilty later.
I suppose we all do that to some degree. But what I tend to forget is how I truly want to live my life: I want to live a life full of joy.

It took me 12 years to join the Mormon church. Twelve.
[I told you I was indecisive.]
After joining the church I began to struggle. I had such a hard time identifying myself as a "Mormon." I had inner conflict about what I "should" do versus what I "wanted" to do. I felt as if I had a constant identity crisis.
So I stopped going to church.
And I struggled there too.
I decided to start going back to church three-and-a-half years ago. I was still wary of whether I would fit in. I'm a feminist and a liberal and somehow that indicates a lifelong struggle with some church teachings.
But a scripture from the Book of Mormon somehow helps me find a constant dose of solace.

"Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy." 2Nephi 2:25

JOY! Yes! That was it! I was missing the point! God wanted me to have JOY! It seems so obvious! And I think that's what I want too! So why is it so hard to realize it?

And now, how do I go about getting this joy? By defining "what I want" and telling my friends? If I'm supposed to have joy then why do I keep struggling with my dreams, my love life and my church? Have I become so adjusted to a life without pure joy that I fear it?
Thus...

I want to stop fearing joy.
I want to be able to love a man fully even though I know he might not love me back. I want to allow myself to take more risks and invest more in all of my relationships. I want to choose a career because I will love it... and in that choice, I want to know that I will likely be successful and that that's okay. I want to have children even though I'm scared that I won't give them a life of perfection. I want to stop living a life guided by guilt or fear and start living a life filled with love and hope. I want to find someone who will share a life with me and I want to be able to not be scared when he shows interest. I want to embrace my talents, realize the potential for success, and not be afraid of achieving greatness. I want to allow myself to be loved by a good man. I want to finally figure out what my heart absolutely desires and not only be afraid of failing... I want to stop being afraid of succeeding.
I want to realize what I truly desire and not be scared anymore.
And I want to start truly wanting it.

Ironies and Rhetoric

Why is it every time I run into my hot neighbor it's when I'm in my pajamas and on my way to do laundry?

The only time I've been given extensions on my papers is right after I've completed my projects.

How come the only time I really want to get home quickly is when the subway takes forever to show up?

My annoying boss was canned just after I left the station.

The men who send me love notes are strangers who've found me online.

Why is the only man who's showing interest in me at school one of my professors?

I found a pair of those coveted brown boots -- half a size too small.

My best hair days tend only to occur when I need to work from home.

How come I turn stupid when I meet a man I could be into?

That phone call I've been waiting for all week finally came when I couldn't answer.

My classmates have asked me if I wear Mormon underwear but it somehow seems inappropriate for me to ask what they're wearing.

Tuning In

Okay, first: raise your hand if you're tired of hearing about my thesis.


Ooookaaaaayyyy...


Basically, I lack focus on this master's project. Yikes. I think I'm beginning to freak out about it.
I've learned that my brain works very well thinking in broad terms and not in specifics. It's such a great skill when it comes to producing and managing. But now that I get to play "reporter" it seems I need to tap into the less-frequently used "focused" part of my brain. Ugh.
Do you think this could be a result of not having more on my plate this semester? Maybe I'm just worrying about it so I can feel productive about something.

And now onto those who are having success with radio projects...

My friend, Claudine Ebeid, just made her debut on NPR!
You might remember Claudine as the hard-core field hockey chick who whacked the ball into my face during a team scrimmage sophomore year. Eighteen stitches and a decade later, I watch Claudine as she heads to the big time. Even though she's a DC chick, her story gives Portland a shout-out. So check out this link to the story!

A Couple Pics

Last weekend I spent several hours waiting outside Wicked and The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee waiting for lottery tickets. Basically, you have to put your name in a box, stand outside freezing for about an hour, and hope they pick your name for $25 tickets. I waited twice for each show and lost. Good thing I brought a book. I bought rush tickets for Chicago instead with John O'Hurley and Robin Givens.
I was most impressed with the chorus.


To your right is a picture of the Manhattan LDS Temple. I also call it "church." Because property is so expensive here, the Mormons decided to build one building and use half as a temple and the other half for regular church services and activities. This is where I attend services and also ask several surly questions in Sunday school as any good heretic would.

I know. You're thinking, "You promised me pictures and this is all you're giving me?" The truth is, I've never been one to carry a camera everywhere, despite my innate tendencies toward photography. So bear with me.
Besides, I didn't want you to think my blog was only going to consist of "meaningful" entries with depth. Sheesh.