Hold on to the good

"With all things considered, I suppose I should be bitter, but I just find myself fortunate to have loved at all. Oh the beauty is not in the ending, but the times that are worth remembering."

-The Radiance Effect

It happens every year. Someone asks me for the date, and when I say it out loud a giant lump instantly appears in my throat. It's easy to forget about it, especially the older I get. When I was little, I'd pull on the t-shirt I was wearing the day it happened (dolphins, of course), skip school, and basically plan on being miserable for the day.

Now, fourteen years later, it's midday until I realize the significance of the date. I still take the time to put on a sad song and cry a little bit. But life goes on, doesn't it? It's a battle at times, and it would be so easy to be bitter... but that would be such a waste. I may have only had five years, but there was so much good in those five years. All things must come to an end... just remember to hold on to the good.

In other news:

-Coach Anderson left us (in a very tactless way, I might add). My heart was broken for a little bit but now I'm just biting my nails (along with the rest of Mizzou) to see who takes his place. (Shaka Smart, please?)

-It's spring break and I don't think it's gone over 40 degrees. Awesome.

-The crappy weather has prompted my search for my post-graduation location. Top three prospects are Seattle, Dallas, and northern California.

-Luna the lemon beagle is back. I'm considering signing her up for good citizen/therapy training...I think she would make quite the saint.

-I took the girls to Chuck E Cheese's today and taught them the finer points of skee ball. I'm a retired pro. I'm also freakishly good at darts... I spent a lot of time in bars and bowling alleys growing up. (Oh, hey Mom!)

-I got a great idea for my next writing project. Now if only I could find the time to work on it...

I shall frame this and hang it next to my diploma

"We all start out the same way, and then life happens. One of the great powers of journalism is to record that. There is no such thing as "the other." It's more important to write about the sameness than the things that divide us."

-Jacqui Banaszynski

And that's why I'm in j-school.

Cheer up, buttercup!

Today has been comically awful. It's just been one of those days where anything that could go wrong inevitably went wrong.

I got chewed out bright and early this morning by my future editor. (I cried.) Found out our basketball coach is leaving. (Cried.) Got my first F on a test that I actually, believe it or not, studied for. (Didn't cry, but I did have a minor freak out session.) I got a nice fat bill from the University for I have no idea what, since I thought everything was paid up at the beginning of the semester. Between that, a torn contact, five stubbed toes, being late to absolutely everything and now having a mountainous pile of studying facing me... you would think that I wouldn't be a happy camper right now.

But I am a smiling fool today. At first I did it on purpose. I read an article in "O" (it's my therapy, I'm telling you) that just the act of smiling, even when you don't feel like it, releases endorphins that will cheer you up. It talked about the power of optimism, too. So what started out as a forced effort accumulated into me dancing in my living room for 15 minutes, and laughing hysterically when I got that hefty bill ten minutes ago. Maybe I'm just finally having a nervous breakdown from all the stress, but I'd like to think that this positivity thing is working.

Can I get a mulligan on today? Tomorrow will be better. It has to be.

Time to put my big girl pants on

When I sat down behind the wheel of my car yesterday, I got a sudden whim to drive through my old part of town, where my mom and I lived, oh, ten years ago. I've been back here for a little over a year now, but I'd just never felt the urge to swing by before. I guess I was having a nostalgic moment. So without even thinking about it I wound up in my old stomping grounds and was greeted with the most warm and fuzzy feeling I've ever experienced in my life.

Only not really.

What a wreck! Our quaint little street now looks like the backdrop for a drug deal scene in a sketchy movie. I actually felt a tad nervous cruising around, and booked it out of there pretty quickly. Maybe I just had rose-colored glasses on when I was ten and saw happiness and sunshine everywhere I turned. Who knows. We've never been wealthy by any means, but I still consider myself privileged -- I got a used but decent car when I turned sixteen and I always knew I would go to college, even if I had to pay for it with loans. So maybe we didn't live in the Hamptons, but I'm not complaining. My childhood was unorthodox but a good one.

I'll admit that this wasn't the first time I'd explored an old abode. A few years ago when I just so happened to be in Kansas City, conveniently close to my earlier childhood home, I might have swung by. It might have been abandoned and I might have let myself in and laughed hysterically because my old bedroom still looked like an insane asylum -- white walls, floor and all. I also might have taken a piece of the siding on my way out which my mother claims is likely contaminated with asbestos. (If the first place looks like the backdrop for a drug deal scene, this place would be the prime locale for a post-apocalyptic flick.)

Anyway, as I was leaving yesterday (hurriedly), I glanced in the rearview mirror and noticed something: my scar.

When I was six or so, we were in the middle of K-Mart and I jumped up to give my sister a hug. Long story short: chin met forehead, and we both wound up in the hospital for stitches. So I've had this pretty noticeable scar on my forehead (not Harry Potter worthy, but a forehead scar nonetheless) for the majority of my life, and I'm totally blind to it. Seriously haven't noticed that thing in years. But here I am in my old neighborhood, realizing my adulthood sight is quite different from my childhood sight, when I see it again. Isn't it funny how time and age blind us to certain things?

It was an eye-opening moment for me at any rate...one of those, "oh crap, I'm growing up" realizations. Which conveniently came on the same day that a speaker advised my class on job hunting -- and warned us to get started NOW. Yikes. Time to put my big girl pants on.

Basketball and my new weekly therapy

I am still catching up on sleep and reminiscing about the Big 12 Tournament last week. Basketball, cool people, and free food... what else can a girl ask for?

That kid in the photo was definitely the number one fan of the tournament. People gave him a lot of crap because he was cheering for a different team every night (Mizzou first, I might add), but he was having the most fun out of anyone there. I had to laugh at myself at one point; I was seriously considering ending my relationship with basketball because it causes me to experience more emotions in a two-hour time period than most menopausal women, and the stress alone could kill me. Then I realized that there were tens of thousands of people (possibly more, I never won those things that made you guess how many jelly beans were in a jar) crowded into this building and screaming their heads off while a bunch of college kids tossed a ball around and tried to get it through a hoop. Sometimes I feel like we really haven't evolved that much as a species.

But I digress. I'm attempting to get back into the swing of things after several glorious days away from work and school. If my entire semester GPA doesn't plummet from this one week of professional slacking, I'll be highly surprised.

Yesterday I read a couple articles in "O" -- the Oprah magazine -- and decided it's going to have to be my weekly (or daily? hourly?) therapy. I had such an "aha!" moment...but more on that later. For now I'm going to enjoy this gorgeous 65-degree weather we're having...while studying for my meteorology exam tomorrow. (Can someone please explain to me why I need to know meteorology to be a magazine journalist?) Marcela and I went on a walk around the block today -- do you have any idea how long it takes a 4-year-old to walk around the block? -- and it was just one of those days that's so peaceful and quiet it feels like nothing has ever been or ever will go wrong. I love those days.

(By the way...for all you basketball fans out there: Can we just agree that Colorado not getting picked for the tournament was the biggest snub ever!?! Ugh. Sunshine and daises...I'm totally zen.)

The good in flowers and mayonnaise

(Photo from Life.com. It's an awesome website. Check it out.)

Isn't it crazy how life can just be going on as normal, and the next second it's up in flames? A massive earthquake that destroys your home. Or that look a doctor gives you when he has bad news. I once read a story about a man who was killed when a plane crashed into his living room while he watched TV. I'm not trying to be morbid; it just reminds you of how fragile life is. I think all you can do is enjoy the little things, and be in constant appreciation for the good in your life.

When I moved away in January of last year, my best friend and I decided to email each other everyday with five good things that happened that day. Sometimes I struggle and only come up with things like, "Saw some pretty flowers." Or "I thought I was out of mayonnaise, but I wasn't." Other days I can't help from gushing and my five good things turn into fifteen. But it all counts. We've been keeping it up for over a year now. And even when my day is crazy and I forget to email her, it still helps me notice the good in the flowers and the mayonnaise.

And really, that's the best we can do.

In the words of Marcela, "I have too much to do!!! I need a break!!!"

Today Marcela was sitting on the living room floor surrounded by a pile of blocks, an unfinished puzzle, and a basket of toys. She looked around at everything, got a horrified look on her face, and yelled, "I have too much to do!!! I need a break!!!" and flopped down on the floor. Oh, to be four again.

I joined the Annoying Reporter Club tonight when I blocked 40 people in a barn while interviewing the founder of Cedar Creek Therapeutic Center after their volunteer training. Oops. I've never gotten so many loathsome looks at once... which is somewhat surprising after the high school I went to. Better get used to it I guess -- Reporting this summer! Woo!

I'm attempting to complete my entire list of work for the week in only two days as I'm leaving for Kansas City tomorrow evening for some Big 12 basketball action. But my thoughts will be with my lovely, BA cousin going through a double mastectomy in the morning. Have I mentioned cancer messes with the wrong people? At least she will be one step closer to kicking this thing in the ass. Excuse my French. Cancer deserves it.

My mother just sent me a picture message of her and my sister eating burgers in the movie theatre. Not. Nice.

A letter for Bill

I'm not really one to go spewing my religious views all over the Internet, mostly because they're conflicted and all over the place at the moment, but I just wanted to share a quick story that I found really encouraging.

My friend's dad, we'll call him Bill, got the worst news of his life on Wednesday. Today, Bill received a letter in the mail from an old friend whom he hadn't heard from in a long time. The letter was written on Tuesday. It was filled with encouragement because the friend felt, for some unknown reason, that Bill would need it.

There is someone looking out for us. Even when we can't see for ourselves.

Caution: corny line may ensue

My roommate always laughs at me because I take so many pills. That sounds awful. Correction: I take a lot of vitamins. Supplemental stuff, because I have a crappy diet and the immune system of a dead squirrel. Well, two more vitamins can be added to the regimen after my yearly eye exam today. Apparently I am so pale that even my eyes don't have enough pigment to protect my "macula" from the sunlight...basically, I have all the markers for developing macular degeneration down the line. Call me crazy, but I, like, really don't want to lose my vision. How will I read!?! How will I watch movies!?! How will I blog for the hundreds of thousands of readers I have by then!?! (Joke.) But seriously. I once lost my vision during a church service -- due to my first ever migraine -- and it was terrifying. So hopefully with the help of these handy dandy vitamins, and the hardcore sunglasses I also ordered, I will be able to hang on to my vision and see all my grandbabies' faces someday.

In other news, I arrived home to find FLOWERS! from two of my lovely friends (one of whom is in Spain right now!). I assumed they were belated birthday flowers, but no, they were "just because" flowers to brighten my day. That they did. I just hope neither Bri nor Lizzie goes to jail, like the last person who bought me flowers. I would feel slightly guilty.

Okay. Get off your computer and go look at something pretty or stare at someone you love ... because your vision shouldn't be wasted, and your loved ones should never be taken for granted.

(Yes, I'll take some wine with that cheese.)

I survived Snowpacolypse 2011, and all I got was this shovel

Unless you've shoveled 24 inches of snow and ice from your driveway AND half your street, you have no idea the sense of accomplishment I felt at this moment. I had a strong urge to scream out, "I am woman, hear me roar," but I was out of breath. (For an entire week.)

A big thank you to my dear mum, who never made me shovel the driveway -- but did instill me with a sense of stubborn, inextinguishable will.

(Try saying that five times fast.)