Happiness

My favorite moment of the year is that first sip of the first peppermint mocha of the season in the red cup from Starbucks.

 

Bliss.

The Stench of the City Discovered

My local drugstore recently put all of the deoderant behind a glass case. Is this really a highly stolen item, and if it is, shouldn’t we just overlook it for the greater good? As someone frequently stuffed in a subway car with a hundred of my fellow neighbors, I say if they want it, let em have it!

Investments

With the economic downturn I’ve found myself looking at my purchases over the years and reflecting on their investment in both their emotional and financial worths.  Sometimes you just never know what will end up staying with you for years to come.

I still wear the silver ring I bought in 1997 at the Ontario Art Gallery in Toronto. I’ve worn it daily since I bought it. It never occured to me when I saw it that it would be with me 12 years later. I think it cost me $35 Canadian Dollars at the time.

Though expensive, my iPod is a twice daily used gadget. I definitely could NOT live without it on my commute and with all the flying I do it’s been VITAL to keep me entertained during flights and dreaded airport delays.  I truly consider it an investment in my sanity.

2 years ago I “borrowed” a grey ARMY T-shirt from a friend and still sleep in it nightly. It is still the most comfortable piece of clothing I own and I’ve gotten great comfort out of that “free to me” T-shirt.

I’m not going to add up the amount of money I’ve spent over the years on plane tickets, but I consider Florida, St. Louis, Chicago, London, St. Martan, San Francisco, LA, Aruba, Mexico, Barcelona, New Mexico and Boston some of the best investments I’ve made in my self.

As I look back, I value most the investments I made in experiences. Snowboarding, traveling, anything that had the potential to make a memory and be part of my story.

What purchases have been your best “investments”?

Legacy

I went back to Illinois this past weekend to attend a celebration of life service for a former theatre lighting teacher, turned friend, Shelley, who recently passed away. Held on a theatre stage, with her beloved dog in attendance and a slideshow of photos from pieces of her life, it truly was an honor to her memory. As I sat there listening to everyone who spoke about her I thought a lot about the legacy one leaves after they are gone.

We all come into this world and from breath number one we have a legacy handed to us. Our parents instill their dreams of parenting a future doctor, lawyer or mother or wish for us to take on the family business. As we grow, a societal legacy is born. The one that tells us to earn a certain monetary amount, to stay within an unattainable weight range and to partner up in order to be societally accepted.

We spend a lot of time fighting these forced legacies and thinking that we don’t measure up or fit into this life, but in death, none of those legacies mattered. People spoke of remembering Shelley’s spirit, her sometimes strict teaching methods that now go on through her students as they now teach others and her incredible love for animals. The University dedicated a room in the building where she worked and instituted a scholarship in her name. Those will be her legacies. A life lived, not a life dreamed.

The Power of One

When I received the invitation to my friend’s memorial and saw the date, a mere 5 days after my return from the Netherlands Antilles, I thought I would have to miss it. As time went on, I found myself looking at plane tickets for the dates, “just to see” and realized that not going wasn’t an option for me. I had a strong desire to go back to the place where we met and honor her service to my alma mater, the University of Illinois. Since making that decision I have learned I wasn’t the only one. Students she taught and mentored are coming from all over the country, San Francisco, New York, Massachusetts, Kentucky, we are gathering together on a weekend in May to remember together a time that’s past.

It it humbling to witness the power of 1 person to bring us all together from all walks and places of life for a part memorial, part reunion, part celebration, sure to be full of laughter, tears and love.

Rest in peace, Shelley. While you watch, we will all be celebrating your all too brief time on this planet. I know it’s cliche, but thanks for the memories.

The Single Life – International Version

“What’s a girl doing walking along the beach alone”

“You have to admit, most people don’t travel to beach locations by themselves”

I am a 30 year old, single woman. I deserve relaxation in the form of my own personal poolside cabana or feeling the sand between my toes while I listen to the waves of the ocean crash against the shore.  I can not spend my life waiting for a man who will carry my beachbag for me.  I’ve thought a lot about the single life while on this trip and about whether or not I truly want to be in a relationship. The truth is, I do feel a pull to be a girlfriend and eventual mother, but I feel an equal pull to be a selfish single girl who can sleep in and travel at the drop of a hat. I am truly fine with either path.

I get too caught up in what society (and my mother) tells me to want. I get lost in the sea of “you should do…..” “you should be….”. I don’t feel lonely because I’m single, I feel lonely because people mock my choice/circumstance and push me out of the socially accepted circle. The absence of male purchased jewelry on my left hand should not make me a pariah.

I am going to keep traveling, keep wandering, keep writing whether or not I have someone alongside me. A hand to hold on the beach would be nice, but having the whole hotel bed to myself is equally appealing.

I do, however, wish I had someone around to put sunblock on those hard to reach places.  I guess that’s why people don’t go to beach locations by themselves.

A burnt back is a small price to pay I suppose, for self-acceptance.

Looking Back Looking Ahead

Today is my 30^th birthday.

My 30 years have been full.  I’ve snowboarded. I’ve loved. I’ve done dumb things like helped a friend carry a 9 foot palm tree on the subway. I survived a car accident. I walked the streets of London, relaxed on the beaches of Mexico and been many places in between. I started my own business. I lived in 3 different states. I watched too much TV. I got obsessed with a Presidential election. I’ve been curious.  I wrote letters to soldiers in the war. I’ve been on a motorcycle (sorry Mom). I’ve read Shakespeare and understood what he was saying. I learned to cook. I stood up for myself. I stood up for others when nobody else did. I’ve wandered and I’ve wondered.

I wish to help others more. I wish to find love. I wish to find the path to my best life. I wish to feel beautiful. I wish to know more. I wish to hold on to hope when I feel hopeless. I wish for possibility.

Happy Birthday to me.

My Month

It’s my birthday month! In 11 days I will officially be in my 30th year of life.

I’ve thought a lot about what I want this year to bring me. More travels, more friendship, perhaps even love.  I think my wish though when I blow out those candles will be for this year to bring me clarity on my life’s purpose.  I’ve spent my life wandering, sometimes on purpose, sometimes not, but now I wish for my mind to settle and to focus on achieving that internal happiness that comes from the confidence that you are living your best life. I am not yet there, but I’m amassing the lego pieces to get there.

I don’t feel old as I look towards 30. I still sleep with my baby pillow. I still like pop-tarts. Ocassionally I still re-read James and the Giant Peach and enjoy searching for Waldo.

Most of all, I still love the feeling of possibility that comes from making wishes on birthday candles.

Why I Sometimes Love the News

Some days the news is all bad. Economy sucks. Job loss numbers on the rise. Tornados, Floods, Famine, War.

And then once in awhile, a day like today comes along. The US strikes down hostage holding pirates and the Obama children get a puppy.

Thank goodness it wasn’t the other way around. Pirates with new puppies just doesn’t seem as newsworthy.

If I had a Genie in a Bottle.

More than anything I wish I could be fearless.

As the cliche goes, as you get older you start to regret not what you’ve done, but what you haven’t done. I definitely look back in amazement at all the things I’ve done in spite of my proclivity to fear, but also know there is so much more I could have done if I wasn’t battling myself every step of the way.The older I get, the more fearful I become. The more I see, the more I fear. I refuse to let the fear close my eyes to the world, but some days are harder than others to keep them open.

If I was more fearless, I know I would have loved more, experienced more, just lived more. I also probably would have gotten myself in more trouble, but sometimes a little trouble is good for the soul.

I think it’s not so much that I regret what I didn’t do, as it is I regret that I had the feeling I couldn’t do it.