Will Google say yes?
Will I find a better job?
Will I move to San Francisco?
Will I love it?
Will I find yoga?
Will it be fabulous?
Will I love life?
Will life love me?
Will love?
Will I?
Will he?
...
Will my career make a difference?
Will I glow when I'm pregnant?
Will my babies stay safe?
Will my family stay close?
Will I love my life?
Will it feel fabulous?
Awesome.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Tighten your core!
When you walk, stand, sit, lean, lay, move, stretch, bounce, sway, lift, fall, move. Keep the center firm to support everything else.
Your body is fragile. Do not take it for granted.
Your body is fragile. Do not take it for granted.
Adagio
Adagio, Mackenzie ThorpeBut even in your darkest place, you'll always have the love you carry with you in your heart. Don't let it go because there may come a day when it feels like that's all you have. And as long as you have that, you'll be able to get through your darkest of days.
______________
About 4 months after getting hurt, my mom got me out of the house to go to a farmer's market and then meet her friend Chris for lunch.
I still had two casts on my ankles at this point, had to wear a back-brace and be wheeled around in a wheelchair. Children stared. Adults asked things that were none of their business. And adults stared too. Everyone did. Things were so very raw for me then.
Lunch with Chris was a couple shops away from an art gallery in downtown Pleasanton, Studio 7. We went in and saw the most beautiful collection in the front of the gallery. I took a pamphlet. Mackenzie Thorpe.
When I got home that night, I couldn't get one painting in particular out of my head - Adagio. I found it online and fell in love. I looked up "adagio" in the dictionary - slow movement. It's a musical term.
My mom picked up the pamphlet and saw that Mackenzie Thorpe, the artist himself, was going to be debuting the collection at Studio 7 the next day. I didn't want to go. Of course I really wanted to go, but I was... scared. Scared of so much.
I hated being in public and I really didn't want to be the sad crippled girl trying to meet an artist.
But my mom wouldn't let me say no. And thank god for that.
As soon as I saw Adagio again in person, I decided I had to buy that painting. There was no way I couldn't. One of the sales women brought Mackenzie over to me when she learned I was going to buy it.
He came over and asked me if I knew what adagio meant. He smiled to learn I had done my homework, and gave this explanation:
This guy's world is empty and dark and it's taking him a long time to make little progress, his sky is frozen. But look at what he's doing. He's still going.
The painting hangs on the wall facing my bed. And I am still going.
Friday, January 16, 2009
I got some action
Created
Documented
Trained
Promoted
Developed
Grew
Structured
Executed
Designed
Distributed
Organized
Prepared
Decided
Purchased
Arranged
Checked-in
Assisted
Sought out
Interviewed for
Earned
That's right, I did.
That's right, I did.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Walk-ways and dead-ends and paths going somewhere
Picture yourself on a path. At the beginning. Looking ahead. You see paths headed off in different directions – lots of them, going lots of places.
You can see that some paths only take you so far and then end abruptly… dead-ends. They have flower-lined walk ways that draw you in, making it hard to walk away. You see the brick-wall in front of you, but you keep walking anyway.
Don’t do it, your friends caution. Amazing though, how we convince ourselves we don’t see what they're seeing.
You eventually get there. To that brick wall preventing you from continuing. As long as you’re walking, there’s absolutely no way around it. Eventually even you can’t pretend you have no where else to go.
So you turn around and go back where you came from.
It’s a different walk this time because at this point there are no flowers. You’re not distracted by temptation anymore, because finally… there is none.
Sometimes you’re lucky and it’s just an empty path. Sometimes your only frustration is knowing you could have avoided this unnecessary backtracking all together.
But sadly sometimes there is a lot of ugliness for you to walk through… holes to deal with that you created on your walk up. They can be filled, but its harder to get home when you have to fix what you broke before moving past it.
Some holes are harder to fix, and some won't be fixed completely. If they're big enough, they'll stay with us... change us a little bit. But it can always be a positive change if you let it. Use them to grow stronger, it will work.
Once you get back to ground zero, home base, square one - changed as you may be - just sit still for a minute. Glance back at the path – the whole thing, brick wall included and remember what it felt like, start to end. Commit to not walking down the same one again.
Not all paths are dead-ends, obviously. And not all paths take you to that final golden destination. But as long as you determine the path you’re on doesn’t take you on a long journey to nowhere, walk on. Enjoy never having to look back.
But do look back... every now and then.
Take paths that no one else is on. Take trips because at the end of it, more roads open up to you.
Let your friends be on their own paths. No matter how far apart your different walks take you, you can always walk together when you miss them.
Watch for red-flags and brick-walls on their paths, but you may have to let them reach those on their own. If that happens, which it will, stand on their sidelines and encourage them for their long walk back.
Keep track of where your friends are so you can get to them when they need you.
Walk with others too. Let certain people on your path from time to time, and maybe even for a long time.
But your path will always be yours.
Protect it.
Love it.
Walk it.
You can see that some paths only take you so far and then end abruptly… dead-ends. They have flower-lined walk ways that draw you in, making it hard to walk away. You see the brick-wall in front of you, but you keep walking anyway.
Don’t do it, your friends caution. Amazing though, how we convince ourselves we don’t see what they're seeing.
You eventually get there. To that brick wall preventing you from continuing. As long as you’re walking, there’s absolutely no way around it. Eventually even you can’t pretend you have no where else to go.
So you turn around and go back where you came from.
It’s a different walk this time because at this point there are no flowers. You’re not distracted by temptation anymore, because finally… there is none.
Sometimes you’re lucky and it’s just an empty path. Sometimes your only frustration is knowing you could have avoided this unnecessary backtracking all together.
But sadly sometimes there is a lot of ugliness for you to walk through… holes to deal with that you created on your walk up. They can be filled, but its harder to get home when you have to fix what you broke before moving past it.
Some holes are harder to fix, and some won't be fixed completely. If they're big enough, they'll stay with us... change us a little bit. But it can always be a positive change if you let it. Use them to grow stronger, it will work.
Once you get back to ground zero, home base, square one - changed as you may be - just sit still for a minute. Glance back at the path – the whole thing, brick wall included and remember what it felt like, start to end. Commit to not walking down the same one again.
Not all paths are dead-ends, obviously. And not all paths take you to that final golden destination. But as long as you determine the path you’re on doesn’t take you on a long journey to nowhere, walk on. Enjoy never having to look back.
But do look back... every now and then.
Take paths that no one else is on. Take trips because at the end of it, more roads open up to you.
Let your friends be on their own paths. No matter how far apart your different walks take you, you can always walk together when you miss them.
Watch for red-flags and brick-walls on their paths, but you may have to let them reach those on their own. If that happens, which it will, stand on their sidelines and encourage them for their long walk back.
Keep track of where your friends are so you can get to them when they need you.
Walk with others too. Let certain people on your path from time to time, and maybe even for a long time.
But your path will always be yours.
Protect it.
Love it.
Walk it.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
A story I once told
My friend Rob always wanted me to tell him a story. I had one I really wanted to tell. I wanted to say the whole thing out loud and watch someone experience it for the first time.
So tell me a story. What do you got for me?
Well I want to tell you the story of how I got hurt. Do you even know what happened?
Yeah, Mike told me.
What did he tell you?
He said you don’t drink because you got shit-faced and jumped off a balcony.
Well, that’s true. But I want to tell you.
Sitting down at dinner that night – I started the story.
So it was the weekend of Bay to Breakers. We woke up still drunk from the night before. Started drinking first thing and then drank all day. Started blacking out around 3 probably? Maybe earlier, I really have no idea.
Hi can I get you two started with something to drink?
Water please.
We ordered dinner. I continued.
So then after a full day of drinking, and people splitting off one by one and getting separated, I ended up with just one other girl around… 10… I think. We were at some Sam’s Diner somewhere in the city. Then all of a sudden, she wasn’t there. I was at a Sam’s Diner at 10pm on a Sunday night. In the city. By myself. No money, no wallet. No cell phone. Nothing. All my stuff was in a backpack in Walnut Creek with Amy. So instead of calling Shauna or some other rational thing, I somehow convinced two guys that I didn’t know to drive me to Palo Alto because I thought my roommate would be home. She wasn’t.
The food came at this point. We started eating. I talk. Rob’s eyes get bigger and bigger the further I get into the story.
So now I’m in Palo Alto. At my apartment complex where I don’t know anyone. At maybe,12 midnight. With two guys I don’t know. Locked out. No cell phone. No money. I don’t know my neighbors. I don’t even know anyone in Palo Alto or even phone numbers I can call. So I’m sitting on my doormat, hand on my door handle, head resting on my arm, and I told the guys to “just go.” They did.
Pause to start eating my food. Rob’s almost done with dinner. I’ve been talking more than eating.
Ok so then I start to panic. I walked down to the apartment manager’s door, knocked but then just walked away thinking that was probably inappropriate.
So for some reason I walked up to the floor above mine…. the third floor. Not sure what my plan was at this point, but I checked to see if my neighbor's patio door was open. Their patio was directly above mine. Their door was open. So I’m standing there in my neighbors’ patio - people who I've never met, by the way. And in my totally freaked-out panicked state, I just HAD to get on my patio. We had a couch there. I could sleep there and no one would see me. So… my adrenaline took over and I jumped over the balcony.
Sarah when I tell you to tell me a story, this is exactly what I mean!!!!
Ok well it’s about to get worse.
So as soon as my hand let go of the balcony wall, I thought “Oh my god, I’m going to fall.” And then I blacked out.
So how did you get to the hospital?
Well I think I must have been screaming. I kind of remember doing that. I remember waking up on my stomach, on grass. I remember the pain in my back knowing that I shouldn’t move. So I think I just started screaming for help.
I have a vision of someone standing over me.
Then I remember knowing there was an ambulance. There was a flashlight in my face and someone asked if I was trying to hurt myself. I’m laying there looking up at the balcony I just fell... well, that I jumped... from and said “no but I could understand why you would think so.” They asked me what year it was…
What did you answer?
I said 1997.
Then in the ambulance I remember a guy telling me “Sarah this is going to hurt. Your bones are sticking out of your ankle and I have to put them back.” I remember I screamed but I don’t remember it hurting.
Oh and p.s., I’m wearing my 80’s jazzercise outfit from Bay to Breakers. I remember cracking a joke about it when they had to cut my striped tights off my legs.
Ok… so now I’m in the hospital thinking just my ankle is broken. No big deal.
But at the same time… I don’t know exactly, the memory’s all jumbled… I remember seeing lights go past above my head. I think this was when I was on the stretcher being brought into the ER… At some point I was aware of exactly how bad everything was. But I remember feeling really... calm. It was like some really weird moment of clarity where I knew everything was going to change but it would somehow be better. I don’t know. Weird.
And actually, saying that out loud just now... I bet a large part of that memory has to do with all the morphine they must have been pumping in to me.... Huh. I just now put that together... And here I thought I was having some divine intervention... well maybe that was part of it too.... eh, who knows.
Ok so anyways, my next memory is being in some room and someone saying something about surgery. And that was the first time I thought “so maybe I should call my parents?” I asked for a phone and I called my mom, told her I broke my ankle and need to have surgery.
But my mom was pissed. I had called her earlier right before the guys left me on my doormat. She realized how drunk I was and was absolutely unsympathetic. My mom and I have a history of me like this.
So when I call her at 2 in the morning on a Sunday night with a broken-ankle-need-surgery story, she said she wasn’t going to come. She had to work in the morning. I understood. So then I call my dad and of course, he came.
The look on Rob's face read clearly, "Your mom must have felt so guilty later."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and responded to his expression.
We both felt SO guilty. Her for not coming, and me for doing this to myself and the family. One of my first memories of my mom after everything... went down... was holding each others hands and forgiving each other. All guilt erased immediately. I think we both knew that we were going to need each other now more than ever, and we loved each other too much to do anything but forgive.
It was time for our movie, so I had to pause the story.
After the movie, Rob asked “Is there more to the story?”
I just let out a big sigh, “That really was just the beginning.”
So tell me a story. What do you got for me?
Well I want to tell you the story of how I got hurt. Do you even know what happened?
Yeah, Mike told me.
What did he tell you?
He said you don’t drink because you got shit-faced and jumped off a balcony.
Well, that’s true. But I want to tell you.
Sitting down at dinner that night – I started the story.
So it was the weekend of Bay to Breakers. We woke up still drunk from the night before. Started drinking first thing and then drank all day. Started blacking out around 3 probably? Maybe earlier, I really have no idea.
Hi can I get you two started with something to drink?
Water please.
We ordered dinner. I continued.
So then after a full day of drinking, and people splitting off one by one and getting separated, I ended up with just one other girl around… 10… I think. We were at some Sam’s Diner somewhere in the city. Then all of a sudden, she wasn’t there. I was at a Sam’s Diner at 10pm on a Sunday night. In the city. By myself. No money, no wallet. No cell phone. Nothing. All my stuff was in a backpack in Walnut Creek with Amy. So instead of calling Shauna or some other rational thing, I somehow convinced two guys that I didn’t know to drive me to Palo Alto because I thought my roommate would be home. She wasn’t.
The food came at this point. We started eating. I talk. Rob’s eyes get bigger and bigger the further I get into the story.
So now I’m in Palo Alto. At my apartment complex where I don’t know anyone. At maybe,12 midnight. With two guys I don’t know. Locked out. No cell phone. No money. I don’t know my neighbors. I don’t even know anyone in Palo Alto or even phone numbers I can call. So I’m sitting on my doormat, hand on my door handle, head resting on my arm, and I told the guys to “just go.” They did.
Pause to start eating my food. Rob’s almost done with dinner. I’ve been talking more than eating.
Ok so then I start to panic. I walked down to the apartment manager’s door, knocked but then just walked away thinking that was probably inappropriate.
So for some reason I walked up to the floor above mine…. the third floor. Not sure what my plan was at this point, but I checked to see if my neighbor's patio door was open. Their patio was directly above mine. Their door was open. So I’m standing there in my neighbors’ patio - people who I've never met, by the way. And in my totally freaked-out panicked state, I just HAD to get on my patio. We had a couch there. I could sleep there and no one would see me. So… my adrenaline took over and I jumped over the balcony.
Sarah when I tell you to tell me a story, this is exactly what I mean!!!!
Ok well it’s about to get worse.
So as soon as my hand let go of the balcony wall, I thought “Oh my god, I’m going to fall.” And then I blacked out.
So how did you get to the hospital?
Well I think I must have been screaming. I kind of remember doing that. I remember waking up on my stomach, on grass. I remember the pain in my back knowing that I shouldn’t move. So I think I just started screaming for help.
I have a vision of someone standing over me.
Then I remember knowing there was an ambulance. There was a flashlight in my face and someone asked if I was trying to hurt myself. I’m laying there looking up at the balcony I just fell... well, that I jumped... from and said “no but I could understand why you would think so.” They asked me what year it was…
What did you answer?
I said 1997.
Then in the ambulance I remember a guy telling me “Sarah this is going to hurt. Your bones are sticking out of your ankle and I have to put them back.” I remember I screamed but I don’t remember it hurting.
Oh and p.s., I’m wearing my 80’s jazzercise outfit from Bay to Breakers. I remember cracking a joke about it when they had to cut my striped tights off my legs.
Ok… so now I’m in the hospital thinking just my ankle is broken. No big deal.
But at the same time… I don’t know exactly, the memory’s all jumbled… I remember seeing lights go past above my head. I think this was when I was on the stretcher being brought into the ER… At some point I was aware of exactly how bad everything was. But I remember feeling really... calm. It was like some really weird moment of clarity where I knew everything was going to change but it would somehow be better. I don’t know. Weird.
And actually, saying that out loud just now... I bet a large part of that memory has to do with all the morphine they must have been pumping in to me.... Huh. I just now put that together... And here I thought I was having some divine intervention... well maybe that was part of it too.... eh, who knows.
Ok so anyways, my next memory is being in some room and someone saying something about surgery. And that was the first time I thought “so maybe I should call my parents?” I asked for a phone and I called my mom, told her I broke my ankle and need to have surgery.
But my mom was pissed. I had called her earlier right before the guys left me on my doormat. She realized how drunk I was and was absolutely unsympathetic. My mom and I have a history of me like this.
So when I call her at 2 in the morning on a Sunday night with a broken-ankle-need-surgery story, she said she wasn’t going to come. She had to work in the morning. I understood. So then I call my dad and of course, he came.
The look on Rob's face read clearly, "Your mom must have felt so guilty later."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and responded to his expression.
We both felt SO guilty. Her for not coming, and me for doing this to myself and the family. One of my first memories of my mom after everything... went down... was holding each others hands and forgiving each other. All guilt erased immediately. I think we both knew that we were going to need each other now more than ever, and we loved each other too much to do anything but forgive.
It was time for our movie, so I had to pause the story.
After the movie, Rob asked “Is there more to the story?”
I just let out a big sigh, “That really was just the beginning.”
Saturday, January 3, 2009
2008 Highlights (no lowlights) from Sarah's year
Mostly from memory, but also looking back through my actual journals to get the dates right, here are the things I'd like to remember about 2008.
JANUARY
Mom and I bought me a new car. I'd been looking and looking and looking and then one morning, there she was. Affordable, new, automatic, sunroof - I was sold. And then so was the car. The car and I are still very much in love today.
Out with the old, in with the new
FEBRUARY
A "relationship" ended before it began. The word goes in "quotes" because although I was sad at the time, looking back I realize the whole thing was a joke, a lie. Painful, but quick.
Therefore the fact that it ended goes on the highlights list.
And I don't think I have anything else for February.
MARCH
Bought a new road bike (and even road it twice... all year). It does look great in my room at least. Good thing I got the light blue one, huh Lea?
APRIL
Two words: Emma Grace. Born April 2, 2008. Making a big brother out of my favorite little man.
Then three weeks later the family was back in Kaiser. My "back-screw-removal" surgery was scheduled for April 23. The first date they offered us was April 2. If you read the previous April highlight, you could probably guess why I asked for a different date. One kid in the hospital at a time is, well, more than enough.
The surgery and recovery process were a breeze for me. Literally. Yes Amy, quite literally. I'm healed and continue to get stronger.
Emma helping me recover - the perfect napping partner
MAY
Scott Evers proposed to my best friend. He and I were talking the day of and he had no idea what his plan was. I really didn't like anything he was coming up with so I begged him to put it off until he had a better idea. But he just went for it, pulling off quite a romantic proposal - all planned at the last minute.
After being sent on a scavenger hunt through Walnut Creek to all the places where their relationship started, Amy said yes when Scott asked "Will you marry me?" in the meadow with the sunset behind her.
And then (and this is my favorite part), he had Amy's close friends waiting at a fancy restaurant so we could all celebrate with them.
The wedding's in June 2009. Can't wait!
May 5, 2008
On May 21st, my dad and I went out to dinner to honor the year anniversary the day marked. It was May 21, 2007 that I fell off a third story balcony. Any more dialogue about THAT event will have to be a separate blog or two (or 4o).
JUNE
Through the magic of Craigslist.org, I met Seth as a potential roommate. I liked him and the apartment, but he wasn't sure right away because I didn't have a pet. Seth looooooves animals. But eventually he came to his senses... or the other person turned him down, either way... and I became the chosen one. The lease would start in August so in the meantime he and I would search for our third.
JULY
Coldplay concert with Seth.
It was a slow month, it seems.
AUGUST
Moved out of Dad's into my apartment in Belmont! The moving team consisted of Dad, Lea, and Duffy. I asked Lea to come with me because all of my more recent moving memories involved her. It wouldn't feel right if she wasn't there... or well, it just wouldn't have felt as complete. She came equipped with the graduation hat to make it official. Inside joke. Had to be there.
Dad and Duffy got the heavy stuff in pretty quickly and I learned that I need to hire movers next time I move my floppy Tempur Pedic mattress.
This was the month I started feeling like myself again. This was the real start of my new life post-accident. And make no mistake, it was all new. It was a grown-up version of moving out of mom and dad's after high school. Except this time I knew who I was, who I wanted to be, where I wanted to go, and how to get there.
The Democratic National Convention went off in Denver this month. Hilary Clinton made a statement that still brings a lump to my throat:
"My mother was born before women could vote. But in this election my daughter got to vote for her mother for President."
SEPTEMBER
Presidential campaign really started getting me fired up. Seth and I watched the first presidential debate at the Democratic Headquarters in San Carlos.
OCTOBER
My birthday. Always a highlight. This year I had the genius idea to make a trip to Boston, stay with Lisa and that Angela should meet me there. It was awesome, everything about it.
I hadn't seen Lisa in, what did we decide it was, 12 years? This was our first time together with me as an adult, if you can really call me that. We found our instant connection - Lisa said it was always there. I guess I was too young to remember, but it took my breath away. I had no cousins around growing up (well... except for Lisa) and am so very different from my mom and sister. So being around Lisa was just.... how do I explain..... well it was home.
Then back in California a few weeks later, we had a party at my apartment. It was a birthday party, a housewarming party and a welcome-home party for our new third roomie, Pierre. Oktoberfest themed, appropriately so. Just about all my friends in the same place at the same time. Doesn't get much better than that.
NOVEMBER
Barack Obama elected first black American to presidency. Amazing.
Yes we can!
Seth the Patriot
DECEMBER
I still have a job after my company lost it's #1, 2, and 3 accounts and had to lay-off 8 out of 22 full-time employees. The economic crisis has officially hit home.
Some key members of my IPS family
The Doran-Lindquist-Bartling Christmas brought everyone I love together in one house and I was reminded again how lucky I am to have the family I have.
I'm so fucking grateful.
Can't wait for 2009. Bring it on.
JANUARY
Mom and I bought me a new car. I'd been looking and looking and looking and then one morning, there she was. Affordable, new, automatic, sunroof - I was sold. And then so was the car. The car and I are still very much in love today.
Out with the old, in with the newFEBRUARY
A "relationship" ended before it began. The word goes in "quotes" because although I was sad at the time, looking back I realize the whole thing was a joke, a lie. Painful, but quick.
Therefore the fact that it ended goes on the highlights list.
And I don't think I have anything else for February.
MARCH
Bought a new road bike (and even road it twice... all year). It does look great in my room at least. Good thing I got the light blue one, huh Lea?
APRIL
Two words: Emma Grace. Born April 2, 2008. Making a big brother out of my favorite little man.
The surgery and recovery process were a breeze for me. Literally. Yes Amy, quite literally. I'm healed and continue to get stronger.
Emma helping me recover - the perfect napping partnerMAY
Scott Evers proposed to my best friend. He and I were talking the day of and he had no idea what his plan was. I really didn't like anything he was coming up with so I begged him to put it off until he had a better idea. But he just went for it, pulling off quite a romantic proposal - all planned at the last minute.
After being sent on a scavenger hunt through Walnut Creek to all the places where their relationship started, Amy said yes when Scott asked "Will you marry me?" in the meadow with the sunset behind her.
And then (and this is my favorite part), he had Amy's close friends waiting at a fancy restaurant so we could all celebrate with them.
The wedding's in June 2009. Can't wait!
May 5, 2008On May 21st, my dad and I went out to dinner to honor the year anniversary the day marked. It was May 21, 2007 that I fell off a third story balcony. Any more dialogue about THAT event will have to be a separate blog or two (or 4o).
JUNE
Through the magic of Craigslist.org, I met Seth as a potential roommate. I liked him and the apartment, but he wasn't sure right away because I didn't have a pet. Seth looooooves animals. But eventually he came to his senses... or the other person turned him down, either way... and I became the chosen one. The lease would start in August so in the meantime he and I would search for our third.
JULY
Coldplay concert with Seth.
It was a slow month, it seems.
AUGUST
Moved out of Dad's into my apartment in Belmont! The moving team consisted of Dad, Lea, and Duffy. I asked Lea to come with me because all of my more recent moving memories involved her. It wouldn't feel right if she wasn't there... or well, it just wouldn't have felt as complete. She came equipped with the graduation hat to make it official. Inside joke. Had to be there.
Dad and Duffy got the heavy stuff in pretty quickly and I learned that I need to hire movers next time I move my floppy Tempur Pedic mattress.
This was the month I started feeling like myself again. This was the real start of my new life post-accident. And make no mistake, it was all new. It was a grown-up version of moving out of mom and dad's after high school. Except this time I knew who I was, who I wanted to be, where I wanted to go, and how to get there.
The Democratic National Convention went off in Denver this month. Hilary Clinton made a statement that still brings a lump to my throat:
"My mother was born before women could vote. But in this election my daughter got to vote for her mother for President."
SEPTEMBER
Presidential campaign really started getting me fired up. Seth and I watched the first presidential debate at the Democratic Headquarters in San Carlos.
OCTOBER
My birthday. Always a highlight. This year I had the genius idea to make a trip to Boston, stay with Lisa and that Angela should meet me there. It was awesome, everything about it.
I hadn't seen Lisa in, what did we decide it was, 12 years? This was our first time together with me as an adult, if you can really call me that. We found our instant connection - Lisa said it was always there. I guess I was too young to remember, but it took my breath away. I had no cousins around growing up (well... except for Lisa) and am so very different from my mom and sister. So being around Lisa was just.... how do I explain..... well it was home.
Then back in California a few weeks later, we had a party at my apartment. It was a birthday party, a housewarming party and a welcome-home party for our new third roomie, Pierre. Oktoberfest themed, appropriately so. Just about all my friends in the same place at the same time. Doesn't get much better than that.
NOVEMBER
Barack Obama elected first black American to presidency. Amazing.
Yes we can!
Seth the PatriotDECEMBER
I still have a job after my company lost it's #1, 2, and 3 accounts and had to lay-off 8 out of 22 full-time employees. The economic crisis has officially hit home.
Some key members of my IPS familyThe Doran-Lindquist-Bartling Christmas brought everyone I love together in one house and I was reminded again how lucky I am to have the family I have.
I'm so fucking grateful.
Can't wait for 2009. Bring it on.
Blogger Virginity
So here I am... blogging. Ok. I think what I want to do is take how I write in my journal, but make a public version.
For those of you that don't know, I've been writing in a journal for 14 consecutive years. Since 8th grade, I've had a blank book with lined pages next to my pillow at all times.
When I was a kid, I'd always be writing stories, long notes to my parents, long descriptions of my family - written to no one in particular, just an account of who we were and how old everyone was and what our dogs name was... things like that.
So my parents started buying me books with blank lined pages to write in. I wrote a few stories about Santa Clause and a character named "Rachel" or "Joanna" (friends of mine at the time) who didn't get what she wanted for Christmas, or had a hamster that died... those are the only two I can remember off the top of my head.
Well anyway, I remember the VERY first journal entry like it was yesterday. We were on Easter break and my sister did something to make me mad. She didn't want to rollerblade with me, or wouldn't let me use hers... somehow rollerblades were definitely involved. So in reaction to my overwhelming frustration at whatever she did, I pulled out the book I had at the time and started writing about... well, about rollerblades probably. And I haven't stopped writing since.
I can't even tell you how many journals I've stacked up over the years. 20 maybe? Probably more. They're in my bins in my mom's garage along with the other memorabilia from my life I just can't part with.
When I was younger, I'd write really detailed accounts of my day at school, what boy talked (or didn't) to me, an outfit I wore that I especially liked, fights with my sister, fights with my friends, who said what about who, etc.
The journals have definitely taken different shapes over the years and served different purposes.
Today I write in my journal when I'm confused, when I'm happy, sad, or angry. Mostly what inspires me to write these days are significant emotions or situations I'm trying to sort out. Or milestones I want to capture, feelings I want to remember.
So my train of thought just derailed itself. Is this blog too long? Now comes the self-editing part writers are supposed to avoid. I'm going to hit "save now" to see what happens next.
We shall see!
For those of you that don't know, I've been writing in a journal for 14 consecutive years. Since 8th grade, I've had a blank book with lined pages next to my pillow at all times.
When I was a kid, I'd always be writing stories, long notes to my parents, long descriptions of my family - written to no one in particular, just an account of who we were and how old everyone was and what our dogs name was... things like that.
So my parents started buying me books with blank lined pages to write in. I wrote a few stories about Santa Clause and a character named "Rachel" or "Joanna" (friends of mine at the time) who didn't get what she wanted for Christmas, or had a hamster that died... those are the only two I can remember off the top of my head.
Well anyway, I remember the VERY first journal entry like it was yesterday. We were on Easter break and my sister did something to make me mad. She didn't want to rollerblade with me, or wouldn't let me use hers... somehow rollerblades were definitely involved. So in reaction to my overwhelming frustration at whatever she did, I pulled out the book I had at the time and started writing about... well, about rollerblades probably. And I haven't stopped writing since.
I can't even tell you how many journals I've stacked up over the years. 20 maybe? Probably more. They're in my bins in my mom's garage along with the other memorabilia from my life I just can't part with.
When I was younger, I'd write really detailed accounts of my day at school, what boy talked (or didn't) to me, an outfit I wore that I especially liked, fights with my sister, fights with my friends, who said what about who, etc.
The journals have definitely taken different shapes over the years and served different purposes.
Today I write in my journal when I'm confused, when I'm happy, sad, or angry. Mostly what inspires me to write these days are significant emotions or situations I'm trying to sort out. Or milestones I want to capture, feelings I want to remember.
So my train of thought just derailed itself. Is this blog too long? Now comes the self-editing part writers are supposed to avoid. I'm going to hit "save now" to see what happens next.
We shall see!
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