Operation: Love This House

Lately I'm overwhelmed by just how much I quietly compare within the confines of my own mind. I scroll through Instagram, through Pinterest, and think Wouldn't that be nice? Even before I get a chance to think, Wow, how pretty...how serene...how relaxing, I jump in with the gimme-gimmes.

Growing up, my mother was constantly saying Don't compare. Don't compare your shoes. Don't compare your hair. Don't compare your family. Don't compare your clothing. Don't compare your looks.

Sorry mom and everyone else: I've never been good at it. I'd like to think I have been an OK sister and daughter. A decent friend. And eventually, a considerate girl friend, classmate, coworker, you name it. I have found the time to speak my mind, or bite my tongue. To work hard with my head down, flexible to jump in when needed. To offer a kind word in comfort, a much-needed hug. But I've always been a compare-er. Sometimes silently, sometimes - as D can attest - not so silently.

Why is it so easy for her? Must be nice. All she has to do is blink and look perfect. I wish I had that life. Why do I have to stand next to her? Why do I always look tired? Why can't I keep my house clean like she can?!

I know it's wrong and that makes it worse. I dive in with negativity and then beat myself up for my automatic reaction. But that's beside the point - sort of.

The house was never ideal.

I found it in a rush, a moment of panicked flight, and would have signed the lease before I even got to see it. It was a house - clean enough - and I could afford it (sort of). I moved in in May of 2009 and have lived there ever since. I spent the first night alone in the house, scrubbing down the filthy cabinets and floors. I was so nervous that first night that I drank a few glasses of wine (read: the bottle) and passed out clutching Marlee with Sex and the City blaring from my TV on the floor.

Again, not ideal.

But engagements, wedding planning, the first few days of marriage, the frightening "What were we thinking?!" hours of a new doggie addition, the first days of new jobs, the long and hard days going to and from a job we hated, very tight financial times, better times, sad times, and hysterical late night dance party times - all have been housed in our little pale blue townhouse on Lancaster Square.

So why do I resent it so much? Why do I look at the small kitchen and pinpoint every flaw: the floors are old and scratched, the cabinets are dull and dingy, the appliances are older than I am, there isn't enough natural light, the faux-wood counters are starting to chip, it's drafty. Why don't I look at that house that I've built myself in - that I've built a family in - and feel a twinge of love in my heart?

Because I compare.

I see the back yard - void of sunlight - and kick clumps of mud and mulch with disdain. I crush the plastic bottle between my fingers as I pick up pieces of trash that have fallen out of recycling bins and trash cans and litter the space. Why can't you be a sprawling green lawn that is perfectly mowed and overflowing with dense vegetation and flowers for which I have the perfect green thumb to maintain?

I stare at my knees - jutting out like soft, round sand dunes - as I slump in a too-small tub. I stare at the chipped walls, inhale the musty smell and try to clear my mind - embrace stillness. I light a candle.

But all I can think of is a jacuzzi tub overlooking a lush, scenic green valley. The sparkle of candles dancing all around the edge as the jets pulse into my skin. The way that life would feel on my skin.

If you know me at all - or if you've ever read this blog before - you probably know I'm "one of those self-improvement kick" people. I can't really speak to whether or not any of the things I try ever actually work, but hey, at least I'm trying, right?

Well here goes another. Due to some indefinite circumstances, we won't be moving away from Lancaster Square for a while as we had hoped. We started a house search a few months ago, but that's been put on hold for a while.

Cue the title of this post - Operation: Love this House. Now, if I compare, I must act - instead of wallowing, I must get to work to improve myself and my situation.

I'm going to do it, dammit. I'm going to shut my comparing mind up and get to work. I'm going to do everything in my power - mind, body, and soul - to love this little 800-square-foot house with a blue door. This house that never did anything to hurt anybody, except just being a little shabby and regular. I don't know what I've been waiting for.

 “Home is home, though it be homely.” -English Proverb

Already this year I've been consumed by the notion that "we can do hard things," and in order to live a life of meaning and purpose, we must strive to dare greatly - in the big things and the little things, too. So, in the words of Kelle Hampton, I'm going to rock this out and see where it takes me.

 

   

 Wish me luck.

   

Right Now

Right now, David is sitting perpendicular to me with my feet in his lap. He's wearing the hood of his sweatshirt up in a most dramatic fashion. He's glued to a riveting episode of Doctor Who that I am half paying attention to. A library full of alien books is killing people, or something. Truth time: I really like Doctor Who and get sucked into every episode. Double truth time: I love David Tennant. Judge me or don't - I've always had a thang for smart, skinny men.

telegraph.co.uk

We just ate turkey black bean enchiladas from Skinny Taste. You should try them ASAP - Only 278 calories per serving! Easy to make and full of spice and flavor.

Right now, I love:
-The forementioned enchiladas. (Did you add them to your weekly menu yet?)
-"For My Lover Returning to His Wife" by Anne Sexton - Read it.  Now. You won't be sorry.

"Let's face it, I have been momentary.
A luxury. A bright red sloop in the harbor.
My hair rising like smoke from the car window.
Littleneck clams out of season. 

She is more than that. She is your have to have,
has grown you your practical your tropical growth.
This is not an experiment. She is all harmony. 
She sees to oars and oarlocks for the dinghy, 

has placed wild flowers at the window at breakfast,
sat by the potter's wheel at midday,
set forth three children under the moon,
  three cherubs drawn by Michelangelo,"

-Instagram's "Following" feature - Yes, I am stalking the accounts you're stalking. Thanks.
-Homemade dance videos from my ghetto little bro and sis.
-David Tennant and his blue suit(s)?
-Dinner date with my BFF tomorrow
-New nail polish color: Essie's Skirting the Issue
-"It's a Head Snapper" 2010 Radiant Red California wine (Label says 'Warning: May Cause Whiplash.')
-Leftover raspberry sorbet
-'Parenthood' season finale tonight - Kristina's fake bald head is obnoxious, Julia gives up too easily, Sarah should become a stranger in a strange strange land, and Crosby is the best ever.
-The realization that this time one year ago I was returning from the WORST BUSINESS TRIP EVER in Vegas. Good riddance!
-Adam's (even more) crazy ass ways on 'Girls' - Who knew I would love him more as a stalkerish lovesick puppy than a freakish woodworking tough guy?!
-FLOTUS' bangs and wardrobe yesterday - Can I get an amen?
-'The Sopranos' is on, which also means it's time to go.

Hey Tone  - my most main MAIN man. Pass the Pellegrino, lovah.

Happy Tuesday, snitches. Tomorrow is half-way to Friday.

xo,
l

ALERT: MY EVENING JUST IMPROVED TEN-FOLD. I JUST FOUND MIKE FROM THE WIRE ON INSTAGRAM. CAN'T BREATHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lia Likes Girls

I do, in fact, like girls. There is a surplus of them in my family and my circle of friends, but do you remember when Facebook used to post your status right after your name? "Lia Kerner is ready to CRUSH this Weather & Climate exam!" (Oh, college.) Anyway, being sort of a Facebook purist and not totally an idiot, I hated when people would disregard this albeit annoying feature and post statuses like "Lia Kerner Do u even kno how much boyz suck?!?!?!?!?! ALOTT. F*ck u u kno who u r!" Shudder. I'm getting carried away. Once I was trying to say "Lia Kerner likes girl's night & vino" or something dumb like that, and instead FB posted "Lia Kerner likes girls." Thanks, Mark Z. It became the joke of the weekend (therein, the name of the FB photo album. Oh, college again) and that's the end of the story.

And I know I'm like the creepy, boring uncle of digressing right now, but I'm OK with it. 

--

Girls/women haven't always had the greatest rep in these here parts. Remember when we couldn't run for office or vote or anything? (Did you know Colorado was the first state to adopt an amendment granting women the right to vote? Chalk that up as another reason to love ole CO.) Remember when women who made mistakes (with men who made the same mistakes and were usually the married ones) were stoned to death, hanged, or just publicly scorned until they killed themselves or crawled in a corner to die? (Wow, this got heavy fast.) Remember when women got 50 cents on every dollar a man made doing exactly the same job? Remember when mostly rich white males decided how women should conduct our lives? Oh wait, still working on that one. So glad those days are (soon to be, I hope?) over.

Women are kicking major ass right now. How about some Hilary Rodham Clinton? Hil has been takin' names since Day 1. Oh you don't like my haircut or my "frigid" attire? Suck it, I'm going to be the first First Lady to go on to be a member of a President's Cabinet. I'm going to be Secretary of State, fools, so keep hatin'. She went on to be one of the best, most-diplomatic Secretaries of State we've ever had and - fingers crossed - a future US President. And one of the themes central to her tenure? Female empowerment.

"Women are the largest untapped reservoir of talent in the world. It is past time for women to take their rightful place, side by side with men, in the rooms where the fates of peoples, where their children's and grandchildren's fates, are decided," she said at a fundraiser in early 2012. Go Hil.

Plus, she is just the coolest:

Photo: Hummingbirdminds

And the rest of us aren't doing too poorly, either. The 113th Congress was recently sworn in, and with it a historic number of female leaders - 110. Let's make that last "Remember when," statement ancient history, ladies. What do you say?

While I know very little about sports, I'm confident women are takin' care of business there, too. In June, I had the privilege of interviewing five inspiring Paralympic athletes - two of them women. The current world record holder with 13 Paralympic Gold medals, Jessica Long is a swimmer and double below-knee amputee. Katy Sullivan, a double above-knee amputee sprinter, broke the U.S. record for the 100 meters at the London Games this summer. While learning to walk steadily would be considered a major accomplishment for either, they choose to submit their bodies to mind-numbing training to perform against and beat the most talented amputee athletes in the world. Hashtag WINNING.

Photo: The Downey Patriot

Photo: CNN

Then there's music. Where to begin? The female power ballad is the anthem of my life. On what I imagine was a foggy Massachusetts morning, I was brought into this world and I'm confident Whitney Houston was on the radio somewhere in that hospital. I made my entrance with a full head of hair, long limbs, and a deep urgency within me for soulful music that knocks me out of my chair. All-time favorites include: Whit (May she rest), Bonnie Raitt, Trisha Yearwood, Shawn Colvin. But there are some new greats out there. I strong-arm you to check out the following:

Jessie Ware, Devotion - Dramatic, smoky, dancey (Photo: Jessie Ware Facebook)

 Cat Power (Charlyn Marie Marshall), Sun - Sassy and thought-provoking, great to move to, smoooooth. (Photo: pitchfork.com)

 Kathleen Edwards, Voyageur - Strongly recommended with windows rolled down. Perfect for belting out alone (or among friends) in the car. (Photo: pastemagazine.com)

Bat for Lashes (Natasha Khan), The Haunted Man - Hauntingly smooth, power, emotion. (Photo: stereogum.com)











There are a great many things to hem and haw over - yeah, I said it - in this day in age, in our bombastic teenage country, but there are also a lot of great things. Like many of the women above - and others - who've got it goin' on right now. Can you snap your fingers and solve child abuse, starvation, poverty, gun violence, rape, adultery, athletes shootin' up (Ugh, Lance), the National debt, loneliness? No. But you can make the best of what you've been given, you can stand up for the things you love instead of bashing everything you hate, you can fight the greed and give of your time/resources to a cause you believe in, you can stay healthy in honor of those who can't, you can fight for the mother-lovin' rights to your life and lady parts, and you can listen to some damn fine tunes while you're at it.

Vive la revolution and happy fridee, all.

xo,
l

Amendment: (Thanks Dave.) A round of applause, please, for Kathryn Bigelow -  a majorly talented and bad-ass female film director of many, including The Hurt Locker, Zero Dark Thirty - two incredible, fearless films that don't just show you the world of war, they take you there and throw you in alongside the ranks. She is dominating in a field historically controlled by men. Plus, she's a hottie with a body. Check her and her films out. Do it.

The Coast Ends Back There

I've been tired lately. Nothing new since I have a less-than-perfect immune system thang goin' on, but let's call it some serious mental fatigue. These past nine months at the new job have been the most challenging, humiliating, empowering, frustrating, rewarding, and refreshing moments of my life. A lot of people make statements like that - in the same dramatic, cliche fashion - but I really mean it.

Transitioning from a large office of mostly fat cats where everyone worked for a fraction of the day to a teeny tiny, all-female office where workflow blazes at lightening speeds and we are vastly outnumbered by clients and publications has been a difficult one. When you're surrounded by lazy people, it's easy to look like a hard worker and I prided myself on being one, but it wasn't long after I started the new job that I realized what a glutton I had been with my work time. Personal time suddenly became non-existant. No more extended lunch breaks (or any lunch break for that matter), no more chatting and gossiping and texting for as long as I pleased. No more scooting out early or taking half days whenever its suited me. These days I can maintain a few sporadic conversations on g-chat, but that's about it. And I'm not complaining, this is how it should be.

This job has humbled me in ways I didn't know I needed to be. I'm the tall, awkarwd, self-depricating one already, so is it really necessary to bring me down a few notches? But I've learned it was - and is - because that's what it takes to truly improve. Over the last few years I coasted through the days and told myself I was 'living the dream,' working my way up the ladder, and I couldn't have been more wrong. That's the thing about that word 'coasting' - it implies continuning on the same path you're on, no increase in speed, no vertical movement - steady on. Coasting is no way to grow.

My first few months were filled with days that ended in tears of frustration and confusion. Of truly feeling I can't do this. Of having questions and having no where and no one to turn to for answers. Figure it out, they'd tell me. To me, figure it out meant Take these instructions, follow them, and then check your work. But there were no instructions this time, just figure it out - somehow. It's not that my coworkers or bosses are some fembots (I love that word) who refused to help or kept me locked in a dark, dingy chamber with nothing but a Diet Coke and a typewriter - yes, there were times I felt very alone - but I believe they saw my spirit needed a little breaking. I needed to be told - No, wrong. Try again. I see now that I had developed some fat cat tendencies, and they worked on me to develop more swift, Greyhound-like tendencies. Each time I was wrong, each time I felt lost, I returned to square one and began piecing things back together, slowly at first and more quickly with time. I still get overwhlemed, but I can feel how I've grown in ways, how I've developed the tools to take a step back and figure things out. I'm still a puppy, I still have a lot to learn, but it's comforting to hear my bosses note how I've improved and made real strides. I can't believe the sense of value this new experience has fostered within me.

I consider myself a lucky one to have discovered what I wanted to do early on in college, in life. Freshman year brought the realization that writing was my true outlet and passion, and my sophmore and junior years revealed that I would combine that love of words with a critical eye for editing and make a career out of it. I graduated college with little more than the belief I was going to be an editor. I was going to make it. It has been slow-going for a while - moving at 'coasting' speeds - but it seems 2012 brought me the momentum I finally needed to kick this thing into high gear.

'This thing' being my old bag o' bones, but mostly this job I love that has become such an important part of me. This other love of mine. My love of the swift, red pen coursing across a manuscript; the feel of pages between my fingers that my own hands molded and stretched and combed; the rush of an idea sparking somewhere in the dark depths of a mind; the moment everything clicks and begins coming together - both people and publications do that, I've learned.

So maybe this fatigue is finally the good kind - the kind earned after a long day spent on a job well-done. I won't expect it to stop. After all, 2013 is shaping up to be the year of HAUL ASS.

xo,
l

2013: An Update

Good eve, folks. I thought I would drop in and give a quick recap of my progress thus far in 2013. Translation: In an attempt to be "better" this year, I gave up my phone for the day. Translation: I left my phone on the counter this morning (because it was frigid and dark and that made me delirious) and, upon realizing I was without it, decided to take the day off from said phone. David is very happy about this because apparently I am "addicted." But it's not like he's a doctor or anything.

With that said, at least 14 times today, I habitually reached for my phone on my desk, which was not there. Yes, I grabbed at air - finding nothing - too many times to count today. I can't say I'm proud of it, what I can say is that I've discovered the answer to the age old question: If someone eats an amazing lunch and there's no phone around to Instagram it, does the lunch really happen? Sorry, but the answer is no.

Now I'm getting off track obviously fantasizing about my phone, but I just meant to say I think I'm blogging tonight because I'm not stalking your New Year's Eve photos on Instagram.

Update on other goals: 
-This being my second post in a week, I'd say we're OK in the "blog more" department - just have to keep it up.
-At the grocery store this evening, I reached into my purse for my wallet and pulled out a tupperware container. A ways to go on the clean purse thing.
-I have yet to join a gym but I got two new flyers today with New Year's specials - motivation, motivation! I think I'll visit a couple places on Saturday.
-My Christmas decorations are still up and there are piles of clean laundry on the stairs. Miles to go before we sleep on the clean house thing.
-Some 2013 travel is in the works: Miami? NYC weekend? Vegas? A REAL vacay? Stay tuned.
-Girl time plans are on the books for Jan, Feb, possibly March, and with two bachelorette parties this year, I'm sure there will be lots of lady time!
-Everything else is TBD - but a confident TBD.

Other than my C+ resolution marks, 2013 has been pretty swell thus far. New Year's Eve was super fun - full of yummy food, friends (yummy friends?), craft beer and a righteous hangover the next day. Talk about starting the year off on the right foot! Work has been insanely busy catching up and gearing up for what looks like another productive and rewarding year! I also got my first-ever bonus which I chalk as a major blessing and career milestone! How wonderful it is to work for a real company!

I don't think I mentioned in my last post just how grateful I am for the passing year and the possibilities ahead of us. It hasn't always been the easiest road, but it's so rewarding to see commitment, loyalty, hard word, kindness, faith, love, pay off. To go through even the shortest stretch of the road and feel, wholeheartedly, Yes, this is right. We are getting somewhere. It's not just professionally, either. It's in our marriage - discovering those things we've promised to "work on" over the last six years really have improved, to see that we're learning to communicate, to listen, to learn from one another - but it's also in our relationships with family and friends and the world around us. To feel completely supported and uplifted by our net, hopeful for the future, is so liberating - and often brings on tears of joy.

I am rambling uncontrollably and realizing "LESS RAMBLING" should have made the Top 5 of my New Year's Resolutions. So I'll make a quit exit and since I'm feeling inspired tonight, I'll leave you with the immortal words of Dicky Fox, Jerry McGuire's mentor:

"Hey, I don't have all the answers. To be honest, in life, I have failed as much as I have succeeded. But I love my wife. I love my life. And I wish you my kind of success."
  
 xo, l 

2012: Year in Review

So much for my triumphant return to blogging - right?

Ugh.

As it turns out, I don't really have the time at work or the mental wear withal to blog after-hours at home. With that said, though, getting back up on the ole' blogging horse is near the top of my list of resolutions for 2013 - yes, I'm one of those annoying people who makes New Year's Resolutions - blogging is just below "keep my purse neat" and above "exercise regularly." Great priorities, eh?

But, I digress.

Tomorrow is the first day of 2013 and I CANNOT believe it. It feels like it was just New Year's Eve 2011 leading into 2012 (around 11 p.m. when I was falling asleep ((NOT DRUNK)) on my best friend's living room floor. A note: I was not the only one.) This year flew by and so many wonderfully amazing things have happened. I can't even remember them all, so here's my "Best of 2012" list for your enjoyment.

(Forgive the spastic listing - I came up with it in traffic.)

Favorite TV Show of 2012: Breaking Bad - I love you dearly, Jesse Pinkman, and being able to follow you on Instagram now, my obsession with you and jealousy of your perfect blonde fiance have both grown exponentially. Walt, you got anotha' thing comin'.

Favorite TV Quote: "Yeah, bitch, MAGNETS!! OH!" -Jesse Pinkman, Breaking Bad, Season 5 - 'Nuff said.

Favorite Song: Pyramids by Frank Ocean, Channel Orange - Probably listened to it 8,000 times.

Favorite City Visited: St. Louis, Missouri - Pretty city, lots of great food.

Favorite Movie: Argo (Or Lincoln - but Ben Affleck pushes me over. Don't judge.) This potentially could change after I see Zero Dark Thirty/Django Unchained/Silver Linings Playbook.

Snack of Choice: Chips & salsa - The problem is once I start, I can't stop.

Favorite Wine: 2010 Runquist R Petite Sirah, Clarksburg, California at The Tasting Room in Reston, VA - Smooth, buttery, flavorful.

Favorite Beer: Flying Dog Pearl Necklace Oyster Stout - Such incredible flavor, I could drink it all night.

Favorite Gift Received: J Crew dress from David for our two-year anniversary or hand-painted His-Hers wineglasses from my sister Mariah!

Favorite Quote: "In dwelling, live close to the ground. In thinking, keep to the simple. In conflict, be fair and generous. In governing, don't try to control. In work, do what you enjoy. In family life, be completely present." -Lao Tzu

Favorite Moment: Walking out of the NRA for the last time ever ever ever - The angels flapped their wings and sang loudly. Also file this one under "Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me."

Funniest Moment: Any and all spent in/around the "Vangasm" in Nashville, Tennessee - Driven by none other than a Ron Jeremy look-alike and his Playboy bunny.

Favorite Outdoors-y Activity: Reaching the summit of Old Rag with my besties!

Favorite Nail Polish: OPI "Louvre Me, Louvre Me Not"



Most Hated Lifeguard: Mr. Cool from Lin's summer pool - I want to punch him this minute.


Favorite New Thang: Vinyasa yoga - OM.



Favorite Meal: Pork Belly and cocktails at Poste in Washington, DC. - I want it now.

Favorite Homemade Meal: BLT Pizza with Goat Cheese Sauce - Drool.

Favorite Book: Bloom by Kelle Hampton - By the time I die, bet I will have read this book 500,000 times.

Favorite Meme: Better put three rings on it.

Farthest Distance Traveled: 2,400 miles to Las Vegas, Nevada - Worst business trip ever!
 

Favorite Joke: What do you call a fake noodle? /// An impasta'   - ZING!

Favorite Reality Show: No Reservations with Anthony Bourdain - Wish he would adopt me.

Favorite Purchase: My red, new-to-me Toyota Yaris - Beep, beep.
 
---
 New Year's Resolutions:
-Keep my purse clean - I am a slob.
-Exercise more - join a gym!
-Blog more!
-Do a better job of keeping my house clean.
-More girl time!
-More traveling! - Would love a real vacay this year!
-Boundaries! - Always need improving.
-More of above - Say NO more - Mean it and stick to it.
-Volunteer more!
-Read at least a book a month - speed reader!
-Eat more toasted everything bagels with cream cheese, lox, tomato, capers, and red onion.
 -See more concerts.

Have fun tonight and be safe if you're venturing out. We're headed to a late beer pairing dinner with friends. Looking forward the fresh start of a New Year!

Party on, Wayne.


Best Hair Moments of 2012:

 

Minute Memory

Trying something different here, so bear with me. If it doesn't work, I owe you a beer.

---
It happened easily enough. Too early in the morning, too early to function let alone answer emails, I sat behind the wheel, steering myself to work. Simon and Garfunkel were singing about wanting to go home. I could relate. God, I love this song, I thought. It faded a minute or so later, the cover of the album sliding off of my screen. A new one appeared just as quickly and immediately, I recognized it. Doubt I’d ever really listened to the whole track before, doubt I’d heard it since hearing it for the first time six years ago, but instantly, it all came back to me.

---
And now, the end is near;
And so I face the final curtain.
My friend, I'll say it clear,
I'll state my case, of which I'm certain.

I've lived a life that's full.
I've traveled each and ev'ry highway;
But more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

---
The ship was long and sparkling white. I stood before it on the dock, feeling like Rose Dewitt Buckater, or some equally important person, also with three names but without the fashionable hat or look of dread. I was eager in a borrowed baseball cap.

Anxious to get away from the shoreline, to flee my life after a first year of college that brought other firsts, confusion, pain, growth. To establish myself outside of the boundaries that had been drawn for me and to rest there on my own two feet. I was ready to be reassured that I had made the right choice in my relationship. Ready to get to know the man my sister called her boyfriend. Ready to re-learn my sister, to catch up on all of our lost time. To slip back into the role of little sister, to be protected and spoiled, and to be the one who makes a few mistakes for a change.

When I leapt from the edge of the platform into the interior of the ship, I felt that I had been granted long-awaited access to “the big kids’ club.”

There were four of us—my sister and her boyfriend, me and mine. We settled into our rooms, and learned where we would sleep and eat, where adults would probably not want to go, where families with children were not allowed go, what to do if this ship went down, too. It was all far too much like Titanic. Like a dream, just the same.

---
Regrets, I've had a few;
But then again, too few to mention.
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption.

I planned each charted course;
Each careful step along the byway,
But more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

---
We ate stately dinners in the stately dining room. We toasted with wine, three of us, only my companion passed on the alcohol. It makes me laugh to look back now and see how he, this 20-year-old college student, turned down free alcohol for five whole days. An anomaly, for sure.

We walked the length of the ship late at night, peering overboard into the water rushing below, black and glassy. Thinking What if I just jumped? What if I slipped? We felt so powerful aboard the ship, but as the waves beat against the sides and the wind whipped hair across our faces, we tried to ignore how the water would ravage us, leaving nothing behind.

Deep inside our staterooms, without even the smallest thread of light shining from under the bathroom door, we felt the eternal darkness of death. Of invisibility. We acted accordingly—as if those were our final hours, breaths on earth. We fell heavily into sleep, the four of us emerging into the  piercing sunlight sometimes as late as noon the next day. Cursing ourselves for sleeping in on our one, glorious vacation, but just the same quietly satisfied. How deliciously adult we looked and felt—lounging by the pool on the top deck with hangover headaches, sipping beers and people watching.

---
Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew.
But through it all, when there was doubt,
I ate it up and spit it out.
I faced it all and I stood tall;
And did it my way.

I've loved, I've laughed and cried.
I've had my fill; my share of losing.
And now, as tears subside,
I find it all so amusing.

---
After dinner, we found seats at the back of a small theatre for karaoke night. My sister bought me drinks, enough to make up for lost time, to make us feel some manufactured sense of connection we would eventually grow into. Before long, I felt the warm burning of alcohol in my cheeks. The elevated silliness of a drink I only knew about from Carrie Bradshaw. With Cosmopolitan rolling down my throat, then my arms and legs and neck as liquid slipped over the edge of my glass, I felt just like her. So grown in the black halter dress that still hangs in my closet.

Ship guests traipsed on and off the stage, suffering (themselves and us, too) through renditions of songs by Aretha Franklin, The Village People, Cher. It was all a little cloudy, but sharply came to attention when a short, slim older gentleman sauntered onstage. Under a mess of white hair, he told us it was his 80^th birthday. I cooed how cute he was. He wore a suit and called out to the crowd that he was sorry for the “old geyser” song, but he thought he’d sing us his favorite. The music began and he started slowly, eventually catching on to the flow of the lyrics, letting his voice deepen at the end of the each line, solidifying “I DID it my WAY.” Pleading with us to understand years of bad decisions, other women, missteps, loss, misplaced anger. “I did IT MY way.” He played around with the inflections as each verse came and went, and I believed him. He had done it his way.

By the end of it, tears were rolling down my cheeks. Lightweight, somebody joked.

---
To think I did all that;
And may I say - not in a shy way,
"No, oh no not me,
I did it my way."

For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught.
To say the things he truly feels;
And not the words of one who kneels.
The record shows I took the blows -
And did it my way!*

---

While the memory is as vibrant in my mind as it could be, it would be silly to suggest one sweet senior at karaoke night changed me forever. That sitting there, newly 19, with a cocktail buzz or more, curls in my hair, a man’s triumphant song of a life well—or at least defiantly enough—lived crawled inside my brain and started shaking things up. Pushing and pulling levers in my subconscious with the recklessness and randomness of youth.

But six months later, I walked away from the comfort of doing it one way—a good way, but not my way. I woke up in a panic, placed my feet on the floor and made a decision, my own, for the first in years. I scribbled out the plans that had been set for me; I gripped the pencil more tightly with my fingers and drew my own course. I will let others down, I told myself, accepting it. I will disappoint you to make myself happy. Scratching everything that came before, the roles I had stumbled into and stayed too long, and starting over. Refusing, like Rose, to hang on to something that had already been sunk—slowly drifting away at first, then more quickly, more steadily, slipping below the surface, down and down, further and darker, until it reached its final resting place on the ocean floor.

The screen changed again; another song came on. Alone in the car, I awoke to the sound of Leonard Cohen’s voice.

*Frank Sinatra “My Way,”1969

 

 

Back in the Saddle

End radio silence.

I'm back, snitches.

By my count, it's been at least 8 months since I last wrote an entry. SURPRISE! I'm 8 months pregnant right now and about to pop any minute! We're naming him David Junior. Just kidding. But, hey, it could be true and that's how sad my blog abandonment has been. Side note: I don't have the stomach for juniors, seniors, teen-years, etc.

Here is a list of things that could be to blame for not writing:
-Pregnancy (see above) Also, an aside--I apologize for all of this pregnancy talk. I promise you I'm not pregnant, nor am I ready to be, but--YES--everyone else and their mother (BUT NOT MY MOTHER) is, in fact, pregnant. Lawd.
-Broken bones
-World traveling
-Loss of fingers
-Writing a NYTimes Best-Seller
-Too tired
-New life in my brownstone in NYC
-Amnesia, forgot how to type
-Aliens landed and zapped all computers
-Mid-life crisis

Look, it's all somewhat true. Somewhat. But in reality it's the same as everyone else says: I've been busayy. 

On the wings of angels with trumpeters trumpeting and cherubs slapping their roll-y thighs with glee, I departed the NRA for the very last time in early April, and changed gears with a new position as Managing Editor for an association publisher in Alexandria, Va. 

I wish I could tell you it's been wonderful.

But, really, it's been FABULOUS. It feels so refreshing to be challenged again, to be pushed beyond my skill set, to be told "figure it out, and let me know how it goes." I feel I've grown more professionally in the last few months than ever before. I feel energized to be working with a close-knit team and to be already receiving positive feedback from clients. I'm thankful, so thankful.

The rest of it was pretty much a quiet, home-bound summer. Pups that get crazier by the day. Wedding planning and celebration with a dear friend. Date nights. A new car. Family time. Yoga. Beers. Lots of take out. David grew a beard. I turned a quarter-century old.  Simple and sweet.

Also, David gained some major weight. Just kidding. #iwish

The new job kept us at home a lot this summer, and the lack of vacation after a long year and lots of long days was hard but good for us. We were able to take a step back and realize just how lucky we were to be able to take trips and travel, get a little break, in the past, and we look forward to future trips now more than ever. Ideally, we will get to do some traveling in early spring (Spring Break '13, anyone?!?!) but we will just have to wait and see.

Cabin fever, much?!

October is National Down Syndrome Awareness month, and Breast Cancer Awareness month, and hubby's birth month, and my dear friend's wedding month. It will be busy, busy but I'm looking forward to this last breath of the year, before the craziness of the holidays washes in over us and consumes every waking hour. I'm hoping to steal away for a few hours to help support and raise awareness for these two causes that are very near and dear to my heart. Oh and that little thing about the election being one month away. A few things to do about that too.

If you made it this far, I want you to know I'm glad to be back here again. I hope you are too. Who know's where we'll go from here, but I'm thinking, as always, it'll be a wild, wild ride.

Stay tuned.

xoxo