As I sit here, shoulder to shoulder with my better half, the newest chapter of my life approaches one agonizing minute at a time. I should be sleeping by now, considering that I have to get up at a time that I haven't consistently woken up at since my stint as a teacher in Costa Rica. The first 48 flashes on the TV screen, ticking down the crime solvers deadline, constantly reminding me that I have several of my own countdowns.
Tomorrow, tomorrow I start a job as a communications specialist. Don't ask me what that is supposed to mean. During the interview I learned that the position is new and it sounds like I will be filling in the areas in which they find themselves needing help. I think that it will a challenge, but a good challenge. I think that it will be the path that will start a long, successful career--I hope!
This isn't the only part of my life changing and progressing . It has been a mission, but I am in the process of signing my next year away to a scatterbrained landlord, uptight association and a jem of a boyfriend. I will be solely responsible for everything in my life beginning very soon.
Despite all these new challenges and changes in my life, I am so excited to make the turn over to be an independent adult that I am not even remotely nervous!! If anything I am anxious and excited to learn all the new things I will be doing on a daily bases--so that I can start complaining about the mundane nature of my job on here already! ;) I am excited to move into my beautiful apartment with the Hunniez and start getting into a schedule and rhythm together. I can't wait to organize the sparce pieces of furniture, bedding and kitchen equipment that I already have in their proper places. Making my own little home with my Papo and the love of my life.
I look forward to finally getting into a space where the Hunniez and I can learning the little annoying things about each other. Having a space where we can spontaneously slow dance on the patio with no music, the nights where we curse ourselves for having to eat "that again". The nights where we cuddle on the couch watching Top Chef and the First 48. Every little celebration and struggle, all the laughs and tears in my eminent future are a blessing because I am doing it with a genuinely good man! (and a personality filled pup!)
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Sunday, December 12, 2010
The One With the Cruel Joke...
As we go through the mundane motions of daily life, we can have an instant where, suddenly, we are transported back to the most terrifying moment of our lives by something so simple as a sound. A mere noise, reaching you before your eyes even filter the wreckage before them. Literal wreckage.
A split second screech, followed by a gut clenching boom as the deafening sound of metal on metal collid with your unsuspecting ears. Leaving even the bravest of souls a bit shaken. I must admit to anyone who knows not of my recent experiences, I am not the bravest of souls.
It was God's fate that on September 25 the boom I heard ring and felt resonate through my own body did not end my life. Needless to say my gratefulness at this second chance is the most precious gift I have been given. Yet, I can not help but think it is a cruel joke to see the same car, a mini cooper, being plowed into by a truck, not unlike the one who drove us off the road that fateful night a mere two months ago.
Oddly enough, the first emotion was complete disconnect. It felt like a dream. One where I could look away, blink a few times and when my eyes turned back upon that intersection the little blue car would have been far away. Safely meeting some friends for drinks. Picking up some medication for an ailing relative. Going home to let out the new puppy so they didn't ruin the couches or catch the latest episode of Glee.
Yet as smoke poured out of the two vehicles in front of me and my friend sitting next to me logically, responsiblly dialed for help, a surging emotion of GET OUT! rose up within me. My own frantic memories of knowing I needed to exit my personal little inferno ballooned within and every ounce of my being wanted to do something. GET OUT! my brain screamed at her. Coopers catch on fire, I thought. I should help the blond woman (yes, another coincidence) who seemed to not be moving. But I was stuck. My body literally would not move as I watched the events unfold before me.
The lights blinked in front of me. Red. Yellow. Green. Red. Yellow.
The turning signals of the cars behind me seemed to mock my inability to logic out the next step.
"You ok?"
Even genuine concern from the gentle soul next to me could not reprieve me of the emotions that surged through my entire being and made my body tremble with the memories. I can't keep driving was all I could say.
A split second screech, followed by a gut clenching boom as the deafening sound of metal on metal collid with your unsuspecting ears. Leaving even the bravest of souls a bit shaken. I must admit to anyone who knows not of my recent experiences, I am not the bravest of souls.
It was God's fate that on September 25 the boom I heard ring and felt resonate through my own body did not end my life. Needless to say my gratefulness at this second chance is the most precious gift I have been given. Yet, I can not help but think it is a cruel joke to see the same car, a mini cooper, being plowed into by a truck, not unlike the one who drove us off the road that fateful night a mere two months ago.
Oddly enough, the first emotion was complete disconnect. It felt like a dream. One where I could look away, blink a few times and when my eyes turned back upon that intersection the little blue car would have been far away. Safely meeting some friends for drinks. Picking up some medication for an ailing relative. Going home to let out the new puppy so they didn't ruin the couches or catch the latest episode of Glee.
Yet as smoke poured out of the two vehicles in front of me and my friend sitting next to me logically, responsiblly dialed for help, a surging emotion of GET OUT! rose up within me. My own frantic memories of knowing I needed to exit my personal little inferno ballooned within and every ounce of my being wanted to do something. GET OUT! my brain screamed at her. Coopers catch on fire, I thought. I should help the blond woman (yes, another coincidence) who seemed to not be moving. But I was stuck. My body literally would not move as I watched the events unfold before me.
The lights blinked in front of me. Red. Yellow. Green. Red. Yellow.
The turning signals of the cars behind me seemed to mock my inability to logic out the next step.
"You ok?"
Even genuine concern from the gentle soul next to me could not reprieve me of the emotions that surged through my entire being and made my body tremble with the memories. I can't keep driving was all I could say.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
The One Where it Begins....
Being an avid fan of the written word I happen to look at my life like a storybook with lots of chapters…
Some chapters are well written. Some are scrawled quickly on a cocktail napkins at 3 am in a dark corner. Some look like Swiss cheese, lots of holes.Some are rose colored, others have no color at all. There are the ones where the pen cries. Smiles. Laughs. Drips with sarcasm. Some of them desperately need a double sided mirror, while others can stand straight faced and proud.
Some of them have beautiful illustrations, but more often they just have doodles. Sometimes it feels like the page finally gets to reads happily ever after… and then the plot thickens, once again...
Some chapters are well written. Some are scrawled quickly on a cocktail napkins at 3 am in a dark corner. Some look like Swiss cheese, lots of holes.Some are rose colored, others have no color at all. There are the ones where the pen cries. Smiles. Laughs. Drips with sarcasm. Some of them desperately need a double sided mirror, while others can stand straight faced and proud.
Some of them have beautiful illustrations, but more often they just have doodles. Sometimes it feels like the page finally gets to reads happily ever after… and then the plot thickens, once again...
Friday, December 10, 2010
The One Where I Start To Figure It Out...
I can't tell you what this blog is about. I don't have a clue.
You see, just this evening I had a conversation with someone important in my life. They asked me why I stopped writing on my political blog. Depressing, I responded. Politics can be depressing and overwhelming. You should write about something else, they said. So here I am. Writing about something else.
See its something of a surprise, even to myself, but when someone believes that you can do things, we start to believe that we actually can. Or should.
Sometimes it takes a little nudge, acknowledgment of a skill or implication of admiration, to get someone to take a risk again. My risk today, writing. I used to write all the time, but then... I just lost the spark that inspired much of my writing.
Maybe somewhere in this mess of a blog I can find the spark again.
You see, just this evening I had a conversation with someone important in my life. They asked me why I stopped writing on my political blog. Depressing, I responded. Politics can be depressing and overwhelming. You should write about something else, they said. So here I am. Writing about something else.
See its something of a surprise, even to myself, but when someone believes that you can do things, we start to believe that we actually can. Or should.
Sometimes it takes a little nudge, acknowledgment of a skill or implication of admiration, to get someone to take a risk again. My risk today, writing. I used to write all the time, but then... I just lost the spark that inspired much of my writing.
Maybe somewhere in this mess of a blog I can find the spark again.
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