Great Expectations~

"There's nothing like the holidays to screw up a family."
"In my case there's nothing like a family to screw up a family."
Gilmore Girls

"Sometimes I love you. Sometimes I don't. But I never ever wanna let you go. The road's not easy; the feelings're stronger. It's the little things that keep us holding on."
Gabrielle--Sometimes

It's the idea of who we are together. The idea of who we should be when we're together. Jokes, laughter, fond memories in the making. Early morning conversation by the fire, coffee in hand, embracing the love and the incredible gift it is just to be all together. Taking the moment to forget everything else and just celebrate our family and where we are today.

Maybe it's just too much, or maybe it's not even true. Maybe it never was true. Maybe this is my own perception on who we are as a family and I've been fooling myself into believing it. Into believing all the shit of the past happened so that we could stand here looking back and just be grateful. Honestly I don't know how many more of these family get-togethers turned family-therapy sessions I can take. Because if I am fooling myself, I think I might rather stay in this pleasant land of make-believe; it sure beats the hell out of fighting all through Christmas.

I'm sick of the fighting, sick of the games. Sick of the mistakes from our past. Sick of intentions. Misconceptions. Hurt. Betrayal. Anger. Can't we just celebrate Christmas--open gifts, eat dinner, spend a few days hanging out and playing games--without all the bullshit? Can't we celebrate the birth of Jesus without crying and tension and hurt feelings?

My view on my family is either so unrealistic it's hilarious, or it's so unrealistic I should be bursting into tears at any moment. Have I created my own reality, my own expectations for the 5--err--7 of us that we can never achieve? Have I created a family that is entirely fictitious? I'm not sure I want to find out the truth. I may prefer to withdraw completely in order to keep the hope alive.

Life has just gotten to be too much for the Gregory's to handle--wedding plans, relationships, finances, home improvement, even the turkey dinner is up for debate. Nothing is done right, and somewhere along the line we all forgot how to simply laugh about it. Isn't that who we are as a family? Isn't that why we are so great? Because we don't pretend to be people we're not; we're fiercly proud of who we are, and we can laugh at the rest, we can laugh at the disasters that come along.

Maybe I have unreal expectations. I'm starting to see I may be the only one who feels this way about the 5 of us. (I know the family is growing, and I embrace that, I try and welcome KC and MM into the family.) But maybe it's not enough for all of us. Maybe it's changing and dissapearing because that's how they want it.

Maybe what I want is nothing more than a fairy tale.

For now, I'm choosing to stay in the warm house with the little family sitting around the fire playing cards and laughing together. Fairy tale or not, it's where I want to be.

Christmas Blues~

The most wonderful time of the year is over. I'm not sure if I can wait 365 days for it to come around again, for the chance for a do-over. I want a redo, a mulligan, I want Christmas 2006: take two! I want the Christmas memories with peace and goodwill toward men. I want a Christmas that counts.

~~~~~~~~~After the 60 mile drive in a complete white-out I was anxious for the festivities to begin. Amid the falling snow we unloaded the cars: presents, cookies, breads, snacks and games. Holiday cheer was in the air and our wish for a white Christmas had come true. It was one of those unique moments--a Bing Crosby song in the making.

The family arrived--the siblings and their other halves; the grandma with all her holiday caramels, fudge, and deviled eggs; the aunt and uncle with their doggies, the cousin with her doggy, and the uncle fresh out of rehab (out because of the broken back, not because he'd kicked the desire to have a drink), mom, dad and me, and the partridge in a pear tree.

The day was as great as it could have been under the situation. Good people, good food, good conversation. We had our traditional dinner of spectacular soups homemade by mother, took advantage of the gigantic flakes and hit the hills for some sledding, and the annual gingerbread contest. Maybe the contest is where it all fell apart. Too many cooks in the kitchen shall we say. Rather, people trying to dictate and direct where neither was wanted or needed. What started out as a something to get the family together, to visit, to create, has turned into a rather bitter contest fueled not by the desire to have fun, but to win. The magic, the fun that made this activity what it is was missing this year.

Then we opened the gifts, I believe, in the best and only way to do so. A family gift exchange. Interesting gifts, unique recipients, without breaking the bank. We've done something right! And then it was over. The family headed out. No time to sit and enjoy. A day packed with one thing and before it's cleaned up, we've moved on to the next, over and over, and then it's done.

Then *the Fiasco 5 plus 2* had to celebrate our family Christmas. Our family moment was rushed because if not that night, we'd have to wait until Wednesday to be together again. In a flash we'd finished. Wrapping paper strewn about, gifts scattered around the floor, smiles and thank-you's passed around. But at the end all I felt was dissapointment. No anticipation, no sitting around enjoying the moment, just done.

I woke up Christmas Eve crabby. Everything was over. Everything I look forward to all year was done. And we didn't get to savor, we didn't get to enjoy. Like a blur, like waking up realizing you've overslept and missed everything. I was upset. I was sad. It's not about the gifts, it's about the excitement, the anticipation.

Christmas is magical for me. It's going to church on Christmas Eve in rooms lit only by candle light. It's the miracle of life. It's music that moves you to tears. It's family gathering around, not saying a word, and yet knowing how each other feels. It's a moment which could be a second or hours, but where time doesn't matter.
2006 was a good year for me, the best so far, and I hoped the holidays could be as great. It wasn't all a disaster--we played several rounds of rummy, scrabble, scattergories, loaded questions, and knock; the sledding adventure of 12-23-06 was a hit, just me and my bro like old times, except with the welcome addition of G's KC; the mornings we managed to visit in front of the fire without fighting.

I'm determined not to end this year on a bad note. Somehow, somewhere along the line I became an optomistic gal--and 2006 is not going to end badly for me. New Year's Eve--here I come. I'm going to get myself focused and ready to face 2007--Cheers to life. To Appreciation. To Celebration.

All is Calm, All is Bright~

I'm on this incredible journey measured in weeks, months, years. This beautiful ride measured in family and friends. Measured in love.

Mornings are my time for thinking, for inspiration; cup of coffee in my hand, I'm ready for battle. These moments have shaped me in a profound way; this is who I want to be, I want nothing but a lifetime of these moments. A little glimpse of light came one morning years ago, but it brought an introspection no amount of journal entries, or worldview papers could ever touch. In a single moment of clarity I realized, for the first time who I was, and who I wanted to become.

This year has been incredible for me. For the first time in my life I am satisfied, I am content at the end of the day, at the end of each day. No more questions, no more doubts, no more horrible mistakes in an effort to discover the truth. That's not to say the questions or the doubts don't come, because they most certainly do. But I'm ready this time, I'm armed for the battle, and I know what I'm fighting for, and I'm not alone.

This morning the Christmas tree is lit, the apartment is quiet, and my coffee is beside me. I'm no longer lost, left wandering through life. I'm not making any more gambles with my heart up for ante. For some, I suppose it may seem as if I'm hiding from the mistakes and the dangers of life. I see you. And I raise you. Hiding--a state of mind. I'm not hiding--I'm living life, I'm just done risking it all on stupid mistakes and bad choices.

I look at where I am today and for me, it's nothing short of divine intervention.

This is exactly where I need to be. I have been blessed with an incredible (expanding) family, who is my rock. We have such fierce love and respect for one another it bonds us in incredible ways. I would give up my happiness, my fortune, my health, for any member of my family if it's what they needed to survive. We have bad times with the good; and we also have a rare ability to get together, laugh, reminisce and enjoy one another. To turn any simple day into a celebration. We are real, we are happy, we are family.

I've been blessed to be given a job, that has never been about a job to me, it's about family. As I look over the jobs I've had just in the last 4 years it's easy to loose track. I've worked part-time, full-time, work study, volunteer, childcare, food service, politics, and books. I've given two-week notice, two-hour notice, and about a two-month notice.
But when I walk into that house every day and see the two most beautiful children in the world (tie of course with any nieces or nephews I may have) every problem goes right out the window. Jacquelyn and Nathanael are such perfect examples of the miracle that is childhood. They are inquisitive, the are innocent, they say whatever is on their minds. To be a part of their lives, to watch them learn and grow, is nothing but humbling. That I'm allowed to be a part of the family means so much more than any paycheck I could ever get. I'm constantly in awe of the support and love I get from "my bosses" who are not my employers but my friends, my second family. Add that I get paid, they make sure I can live this life is really just the icing on the cake.

Sometimes the state of the world, the state of my life gets to be too much. For an instant panic takes over and I feel I've lost all I've gained. But then the morning comes, and the quiet apartment, the comforts of my life, the coffee and the introspection remind me I'm safe, I'm protected and I'm loved. And that's all I need.

Christmas Time is Here~

"I never thought it was such a bad little tree. It's not bad at all, really. Maybe it just needs a little love." Linus Van Pelt A Charlie Brown Christmas

I don't specifically know how I ended up at Wal Mart. My personal feelings about the company aside--sometimes a gal's budget just takes over. Not to mention the fact that it is already December 6th and I'm in still without a tree. Oh, I love the Christmas tree and the entire process. Trekking up to mom and dad's to cut a tree off the family place is just practically a postcard in itself. It's all very nostalgic to me, even though I can't actually remember us ever specifically doing that, although I know we did, I'm sure we did.

I am very against the fake tree, with it's prelit lights and no distinguishing characteristics whatsoever. I love the evergreens, the Douglass firs, the Colorado pines. Whatever. I'm a sellout. This being 12-6 I marched over to wal-mart, I got my 5 1/2 foot prelit, easily assembled tree. For $29.99. Does that make me a bad person? Maybe. But last year I was forced to get a tree off of the lot for 65 bucks! At least I'm not doing that again. {I guess I didn't technichally fork over any dough...as I left my wallet at home...oh, the schmoopies didn't mind at all:)}

With a little love, I'm hoping this tree will bring a little magic.

All By Myself~

I did it. It's done. The roommate disaster has been solved--at least on the surface. Roommate is moving out when the lease is up. I felt so adult keeping my rage at bay and focusing on the issues. Regardless of how bad the relationship has gotten, I still wanted to keep the dissolution semipeaceful. I brought out the big guns: kept my emotions in check, stated the facts--out of respect for what our friendship used to be, and for the sake of my sister and the new addition to her family.

I was honest, to a point. I was nice, to a point. But this was a new experience for me. An intense conversation, an intense relationship where I let myself take care of me. My motives aren't selfish, it's about self-preservation, and if I'm not taking care of me, nobody is. A long hard lesson I'm finally able to live, to experience positively.

Finally--I get my own apartment!! My own space, without having to share or be polite. I can decorate and organize and live any way I want. I'm excited to be able to just be who I am without critique or explanation. I can be up at 6 am with the music on. I can be in bed by 9 pm with the hall light on. I can have the coffee mug of my choice and the washing machine whenever I want. I can write without interruption.

The Break Up~

If only we were dating--then it would be so much simpler. "It's not you...it's me. I'm just not ready for this type of commitment. I think we should see other people."

There is no easy way out of this one. It's going to end up all messy and uncomfortable. Is there protocol for "breaking up" with a roommate? Is there some way I can let her down gently? Let's add insult to injury--she's not just my roommate--she's the soon to be sister-in-law to my sister. Damn. Talk about all tied up and connected: her brother is marrying my sister. I can't just ditch her and move on with my life. There's gonna be weddings, nieces and nephews, Christmas dinners and birthday parties.

Messy or not--I'm ready for splitsville. I suppose I have to do it proper--no text messages, emails or notes. This is going to be a face to face battle. One I'm not sure I'm ready for, but hell, beats the alternative. I've given it the ol' college try. I made up my mind we could be friends like we used to, go back to the good times. It took less than an hour of speaking to make me realize that ship has sailed.

I'm at the point I don't even want to be around her. I don't want to talk. I don't want to share my life. I want no opinions about anything from her, ever again. At the same time I want to keep the value in what used to be our friendship. It wasn't a small thing to me, now or ever, but it's not the same and it never will be. I have always been a good, supporting friend; it's the reciprocation that's missing. I don't feel respected--my space, my decisions, my posessions. I want to be civil and honest; I don't want to burn bridges my family'll be crossing in the future. Living with her each day is making the end that much worse. I'm getting angrier and it's going to be ugly unless I get out of her asap!

There are times I just want to be honest and remind her she's a huge pain in the ass. Loudly. With a lot of expletives. Remind her she doesn't have all the life experience she thinks she has. Remind her the baby princess is just a fantasy, and it's over now. Mostly I just want her to butt out of my life.

Sure, there are going to be weddings, nieces and nephews, Christmas dinners and birthday parties. But I can suck it up and deal, because to be completely honest--it's not me--it's her!

Don't Save it all for Christmas Day~

It really is the most wonderful time of the year.

I love every holiday be it Valentine’s Day, or Easter, or Independence Day, or Arbor Day. We're at the threshold of this holiday season and it's nothing short of magic to me. I love these few months because it’s just a huge wave of what I love best about life--something special to celebrate every few weeks. And it stretches out, letting you celebrate for days and nights and weeks with those you love. Yes, for some the holidays are depressing-- they’re just lucky to survive the whole mess. But for me…this is the heart of who I really am; it is my heart and sole.

Honestly I'm not really at the threshold of the holiday season--I knocked, and walked right into the foyer without so much as an invitation. Why wait? Why not celebrate thanks and goodwill toward mankind? I'm no dummy--I've checked a calendar and I know exactly where we are today. November 17th..."Not even Thanksgiving, yet!" Does that mean I cannot be happy...does that mean I can't celebrate?

To some I'm glossing over supposed important events. I'm a gal on a tight budget--when I find that special something, on sale! I'm going to go ahead and get it. I know, it's not even Thanksgiving, I should be waiting for it to go back to full price! (It really must be horrifying to see somebody celebrating friends and family by buying things for them) For the oh-so-observant one, yeah, I've wrapped it too...cause hey, if you noticed the gifts, woundn't you have wandered upon your own? I like to keep a surprise, and when did my actions become up for debate? You're lucky I'm not taking yours back!

I'm 22, on the verge of 23, and yes, that is still technically on the young side. However, if I had to put a number on it I feel more 36 in my heart of hearts. Whether I'm 23, or 36 or 94 I don't need your help on how or when to celebrate. I suppose this is why the holiday's get so depressing. I've got a grinch for a roommate, determined to spoil my holiday cheer. Well newsflash: I like Christmas music and I've yet to see the crime in listening to songs about the birth of Christ before Thanksgiving. I've never seen a timeline on a cd or a experation date on music.

Let's be real, I'm not getting a Christmas tree in August, and I like to give props to each holiday--no need for the holidays to start acting like rivaling siblings. But give me a break...let me do my thing. Keep your mouth shut and let me rejoice. This is a beautiful time of year--the most wonderful time of the year to be exact.

Nights spent in front of the fire watching the snow fall. Hot cider, popcorn, blankets and pjs watching movies all night. Wrapping presents and singing along with the stereo. Family togetherness--playing poker, cracking jokes, gingerbread house contests--creating memories to talk about when things get hard, when life gets to be too much.

I don't need a calendar to tell me when to celebrate. I don't need a roommate to tell me when to get excited. This is who I am. These moments bring back memories of waiting for santa, (shocked the night he showed up before we were asleep and I dashed into bed, knowing, believing in a little magic) family dinners, childhood joy.

Life is hard enough, let's just take some time to enjoy it. Let the season take you away...back to the magic of childhood, before deadlines and bills and that pesky 9-5.

Sadie, Sadie~

Married Lady--my sis' gettin hitched!

The call we've been waiting to get, for months it seems, was finally made! Sarah and Matt are engaged! She's giddy, which is to be expected, and so darn cute--taking the ring out shopping, to see how it looks pushing a cart--naturally. As soon as we get to see her (only 6 more days!) I'm sure we'll need sunglasses lest we be blinded by the glow that has enveloped her, not to mention all that bling!

Now we get to partake in all those girly rituals that we've all pretended disgusted us for our entire lives. The fantasy and all it's magic has come true. Love and all that other nonsense. Bring on the brides magazines, bring on dresses, the cake, the champagne, showers and gifts. Bring on flowers and romantic ceremonies and to have and to hold, for the rest of our lives.

Wow. I'm getting all weepy just thinking about it. Nobody deserves happiness more than my sister. She is generous, giving and she deserves nothing but the best. Which Matt will give her, he'll make all her dreams come true...or he'll run and hide.

Maybe I am a cynic. Maybe I am trying not to get too carried away. Self preservation? This is the fantasy--love, marriage, family--the key to happiness. Who am I kidding? I know nothing about relationships. I know nothing about love; unless we're counting bad relationships...taking the opposite of my own experiences brings me closest to what love should be.

I'm going to put on my happy face. Because she is my sister and I love her. And because marriage is hard enough, planning a wedding is hard enough. I'll support all her decisions--to elope, to hit up a justice of the peace, or a huge gaudy, splashy ceremony--whatever she chooses, I'll stand beside her. I'll remind her she's the most beautiful woman in the world and she's got a wonderful life ahead of her.

And that this is her day, but it is just the beginning...

The Thrill of Victory~

Oh baby! I'm in love!

In love with the good ol American democratic system. I'm in love with the ability to express my voice. I'm in love with checks and balances. I'm in love with the Constitution. I'm in love with politics and the passion, the challenges, the dedication of making it work.

I'm in love--with a donkey. Or rather, the entire democratic party and every person in it. Oh I can hear it now...Kool and the Gang "Celebration"... U2 "It's a Beautiful Day." It is a beautiful day and surely one to celebrate. Have I mentioned how much I love Montana? Virginia? Well I do. And not just the final two...I love all 51 seats. I love each senator and representative. (Well, I'm all for sharing the love, but that may be taking it a bit far...)

The Dems, we've got it. The thrill of victory!! The Senate and the House, no really, we couldn't. Oh, wait--yeah, we'll take 'em both. We've been given two years and we can make it better.

I mean, I'm no stranger to the agony of defeat. 2004? Yeah, lets recap: Barbieri--lost. Dolan--lost. Kerry--oh, yeah, major unsettling, defeat. I knocked on doors, I walked in parades, I handed out pamphlets with a mega-watt smile. I answered phones and waved signs. I sported the bumper stickers and even got a Young Dems on Whitworth campus.

And what did it get me--yeah, I remember that pit in my stomach, the agony of defeat.

So it is with tremedous joy that I celebrate this election, these victories. Because I remember, oh do I remember what it's like. And now is my time to rejoice. Those poor republicans with their sex scandals and all the drama; if I were Rumsfeld I would get the hell out too! Now we have the chance to bring about change actually benefiting real, everyday Americans.

Sure, I'm giddy...I catch myself smiling, I've noticed a little spring in my step that hasn't been there for some time. And I can't help but laugh at the excuses I'm hearing from some solid GOPers: "The Dems are just about money....they are so narrow minded." Puh--leez! This from someone who is a republican because of one issue: abortion. And let's remember that both parties love money...the difference is where the money goes and who benefits.

I believe in the value of the American people. (Not to confuse my values as the only values.) I am a Christian. I am an American. I am a democrat.

And I'll be dancing all the way to 2008!

The Nanny Diaries~

I am the nanny. I am not the mother. I am the nanny. I am not the mother.

My job is a dream. I get all the fun, all the play, all the special moments. I get days spent in sweat pants and messy ponytails; baking cookies, reading books, and taking trips to the park. I get paid to play, to craft, to be a stay at home momma without any of the responsibilities. I don't have to clean the house, or even pay for the house. I don't shop for the groceries, clean the pool or mow the lawn. I get all the glory--without any of the guts. I get to leave at the end of the day, and go home to my own life.

Not. So. Fast.

Sometimes it's all tantrums, fights and puke. It's not eating anything and spilling everything. Lately--it's the screaming. Shrill, piercing screamfests lasting upwards of 45 minutes. It's kicking, crying, and thrashing everything in sight. But these are not the normal trantrums--which I can handle. This has something behind it. Something boiling beneath the surface that she's expressing the only way she knows how.

This job follows me home. This job--these children, this family--follows me everywhere. They are in my heart, they are in my mind. These screams, those moments of inconsolable pain break my heart. I walk a fine line, balancing what I do and say within the boundaries of who I am: I am the nanny. I am not the mother. Although we do have a great relationship, a unique balance of employee and member of the family, a solid trust built on open communication. But I cannot say what I think right now--which will be taken the wrong way, taken that I think she is a bad mother.

I don't want to be the mother. I like what I do, and I like my role. I like leaving at the end of the day. But there are days--days I feel I have a better idea of what's happening. I can be there, and yet be removed. These are not my kids, this is not my marriage. I can see inside of the box and outside of the box. I'm there handling it most days and I can see something else. Something she's missing.

I can see a mother working her ass off at home and at work to have the perfect family. I see a mother whose hormone levels are all over the place on a normal day, never mind when she's 5 months pregnant. Oh, yes and all the changes going on in the house to make way for Baby. All the changes in the family for the new arrival. As the belly gets bigger the changes are something nobody can ignore, especially the 4-year old who is too smart for her own good.

I love my job and I love these kids. I want to help them, and I want to help this family.
I just don't know how to do that yet...

Young'n~

Right now, Kenny Chesney's on the stereo and my little almost-three year old is totally rocking out. Cause of course he can identify with Kenny and where does the time go? "But it sure goes fast, just like that we were wanna be rebels who didn't have a clue with our Rock n' roll T-shirts, and our typically bad attitudes had no excuses for the things that we'd done we were brave, we were crazy, we were mostly young" He dances on the coffee table so he can see his reflection in the tv and every now and then he shouts out a little pint size person "whoohoo."

Yeah, this is my life. This is my job. These are the moments I live for, the moments that define me.

I'm having difficulty articulating these moments. I have my life, and then I have the people in my life. The difficulty is when the people begin affecting the moments of my life negatively. Taking away from what I value. (Clearly we're having trouble with articulation. What-- is English suddenly my second language?) Maybe I should just spell it out--I'm having serious roommate trouble. And my biggest issue is that I can't seem to find the words to say it to her...The only person who really needs to hear it. We're more than roommates-- close friends almost as soon as we met--and yet now I view it as a surface level relationship. Roommates. Period.

I moved back to Spokane in February a changed person. I took some hard hits the last time I was living in Spokane; things that changed the way I interact with people. Maybe I've changed too much...maybe we've both changed and grown in opposite directions. Maybe it's all the drama, all the family stuff.

Whatever it is, it's different. I wish for nothing more than to be able to be honest without hurting her or what is left of our friendship. To be respected--my choices, my life, my decisions--and to give that back. A friendship based on honesty and support and laughter and life--without all the other bullshit.

Maybe I'm just identifying with Kenny, too "had no excuses for the things that we'd done we were brave we were crazy we were mostly young."

But now I'm grown up and those days are just memories.
Without all this bullshit it's good. But the bullshit is burying me.
And I've been down that road, and I'm choosing to take the detour while I can.

20 Hours in America~

Nothing like the rapid fire dialogue and scintillating wit of The West Wing to ignite some much needed direction for my life. There I am--couching it, after a very long weekend with the flu, hoping to accomplish nothing more than a little r'n'r when it hits me like a bad case of nausea. It's not a question of if I go back to school...no longer the meandering thoughts of what I'm going to do with my life. It's always been there; but like my shadow has a tendency to disappear on cloudy days, which seem to be the days I need it the most, when I need the reassurance, the proof I'm not just kidding myself.

I'm going back to school. I want to learn. I want to be inspired. I want to think. But it does not end there my friends, oh no it doesn't. I want to inspire others to learn and think. I want to teach.

I lost that somehow. Somewhere along the way I forgot what it was I really wanted to be doing. I got scared and I panicked. Somewhere in the crap that was Whitworth I forgot who I was.

This time away from school has let me do some deep soul searching, some real thinking. It was the school of real life, which is amazing, and has cheaper tuition! This break has let me ask the questions, and find my own answers. It has allowed me to grow stronger without the corrosive environment that Whitworth was for me. I'm a whole person now; and the journey is something I'm choosing to take, not because I'm graduating from high school and out of other options. This is my choice, and I'm extremely confident about it.

I'm so excited for this. It's gonna take a lot of hard work but I'm ready for that. It's going to take saving some serious cash, deciding what school I want to go to, and getting a job that works around school. It'll be hard, but in the end, I'll end up in a classroom, teaching about history--but inspiring, and if I can do that, then it will be a job well done. :)


Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined Henry David Thoreau

"It's up to each of us to get very still and say, 'This is who I am.' No one else defines your life. Only you do." ~Oprah


"In order that she may be able to give her hand in dignity, she must be able to stand alone." ~Margaret Fuller

In loving memory~

There is a wedding ring hanging from my rear-view mirror. This is not a typical left hand--platinum and diamonds-- marriage kind of ring.

My wedding ring is a fishing lure.

This mere fishing lure grounds me.
It reminds me of who I am, where I've been and where I'm going.
It guides me.

It's been 10 years since my grandpa died.

I remember pieces of him. His laugh. Some of his jokes. But I can't think of the last time I talked to him, or the last moment I spent with him. The memories are only pieces. My grief comes from knowing how much more it could have been--the questions I want to ask him, the stories I want to hear. Those moments only he could give. The older I get the more I know how close our relationship would have become. I am overcome with emotion at how little I knew him, the loss at the chance I had to really know him.

My grandpa died in his boat, after a successful fishing trip. On the lake he grew up on, in his boat, enjoying a beautiful day with a great pastime. Just like that. Even brought the boat back into the slip. Took care of the fish that now hangs on the wall in my parents house--one last memory we were left with, one more precious gift.

I am awed at the love between my grandpa and grandma. My grandma misses him today as much as she did 10 years ago. She'll never get over their love or the loss of him in her life.

I can spend the rest of the day sad, crying in my coffee... Or I can look at my hot pink wedding ring, and remember the good times. I've been blessed with an incredible family and the generous amount of time we spend together, each moment more precious. We have so many bonds between us--strongest is the love that unites us.

I can cherish the memories...the wedding ring significant to so many important legacies and treasures. We gather now for fishing and camping, and moments that will stick with us forever. The lake that is magical to me--that grounds me--that reminds me who I am and where I'm going.

The lake that served as an ending to one, but a beginning to me.

I can cherish the grandfather who gave me so much.

Guardian Angel~

Call it an accident.
Call it fate.
Call it unfortunate.
Call it lucky.

Call it grace.
Call it protected.

It happens in an instant~the moment your life changes. This morning I was headed to work in the usual manner--late, coffee in hand, radio dial tuned to the local station that is as much a part of my mornings as toothpaste and shampoo. I took the usual route, up M street--Onto N--right on H, etc.... Except I never made it to N. I didn't even make it halfway up M. I didn't even make it two blocks.

Black. That's the color of the car running the stop sign on S. That's what I saw when I should have seen the open road in front of me. Fuck. I think I remember uttering the single word, which conveyed annoyance, anger, and fear. Oh God! I swerved right. SonofaBitch.

The sound of a car accident is almost as bad as the impact itself. The breaks shrieking, the sound of metal colliding with metal at somewhere around 40 mph. Every second lasted a lifetime. I felt myself steering, knew I slammed my foot on the break, knew I was headed into the opposite lane of traffic. Braced myself for the next car to hit me--the traffic was heavy and I knew the impact was coming, and I waited.

I realized I had been holding my breath when the tornado I had gotten lost in finally stopped, and I exhaled. I was sitting in my car, stopped, looking at the world in a new light. The impact had thrown me 180* and into the opposite lane of traffic, 20 feet east and completely on the shoulder. And I breathed a sigh of relief. No pain. No blood.

Quiet.

The next 60 minutes were a blur. Phone calls. Sirens. Tears. Police. Fire Department. Witnesses. Conclusion. Hit and Run.

Everything important is in the details. Impressive driving? According to Rod, the witness, who saw the motherfucker slam into me, there wasn't anyway around it--I was about to get creamed...t-boned...right in the driver's side door.

Except that I didn't. My poor little car got some nice damage, some pretty good dings but only the back end. When the car blew past the stop sign, came careening through the intersection I knew I was in some serious trouble.

Instead, I walked out of my car, shocked, running on adrenaline, but physically I was fine.

I made it back home, reeling, but okay. Pain was showing up in small doses--headache, backache--I felt like I'd been in a car accident. Minimally I was an emotional wreck. Reliving every moment, every second of fear and doubt. Reliving the entire experience over and over. I couldn't seem to shake the overwhelming sense of dread, of panic, of unrelenting all-consuming fear.

Until I checked my email. Everything changed the minute I opened the message of wisdom, of divine intervention that saved my life: Psalm 91. That's all it said. This time the tears were joy, tears of grace. I was in a fortress and I was safe.

1 He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
2 I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust."
3 Surely he will save you from the fowler's snare and from the deadly pestilence.
4 He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
5 You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day,
6 nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.
7 A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.
8 You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked.
9 If you make the Most High your dwelling— even the LORD, who is my refuge-
10 then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent.
11 For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways;
12 they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
13 You will tread upon the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent.
14 "Because he loves me," says the LORD, "I will rescue him;I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
15 He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him.
16 With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation."

Family Ties~

"Your brother's been arrested."

How do you align your mind and your heart once these words have been spoken?

My mind is saying this was bound to happen. My heart is seeing my little brother getting handcuffed and thrown into the backseat of a police car.

My mind is saying this could be the best thing for him. My heart is breaking in two.

My mind is walking away. I'm leaving him to deal with the repercussions, letting him deal with the consequences of his own actions. My heart is thinking of strategies, opportunities, ways to save him.

Typically I've let my heart lead me. With reckless abandon. I firmly believe it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. All those times I've been hurt because I turned off the voices in my head screaming at me to stop, turn around, run; I'm a better person because of those lessons.
Because of the lessons I've learned letting my heart lead me, I'm who I am today.

Now I'm just torn in half. With a sickening, sinking feeling.

My mind is saying that he's going to do exactly what he wants to do. No marijuana bust is gonna stop him. My heart is saying that I can reach him this time, I can help.

The sickening thing is that I think I've already resigned myself to letting my mind handle this one. I can't save him, he doesn't even want to be saved.

I love my brother. My heart is overflowing with love.

My mind is telling me I'm no martyr, and it's foolish to think anything else.

My heart is still breaking.

I am content.

I am passionate.

I am quiet.

I am feminine.

I am unique.

I am silly.

I am reserved.

I am proud.

I am faithful.

I am compassionate.

I am dedicated.

I am loud.

I am broken.

I am peaceful.

I am loved.

I am forgiven.

I am beautiful.

I AM CREATIVE.

I am searching.

I AM WOMAN

Sidewalk Chalk~

And other things I've learned this week~

There are times I want to jump into the castle with them. Jump right on into imagination land--where everything is at your fingertips, where all of your dreams are reachable. Simply pick your favorite color of chalk, and draw whatever you want. Right in front of your eyes, dreams have turned into reality. Sure, it takes a bit of your imagination...but if you close your eyes, and think very hard...you are really, truly entering the castle, the friendly forest, the pond by the meadow, climbing the apple tree far from everything. There are times I want to close my eyes, hold hands with the two- and three-year old at my side and really, truly, believe anything can happen.

There are times when it hits me that my own life may very well be a castle in Imagination town. That my own apartment~although painfully ghetto, and annoying at times (what! laundry only between 8am and 8pm...you gotta be kidding me?!) is pretty swell. That I'm pretty fortunate to have the car, the house, the job that I really truly want.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It happens to most of us eventually, the moment when our parents become real people, with motives and hopes as authentic as our own."
I read that in a book a while back, jotted it down and stuck it in a stack of other quips and quotes I've found in other books, other magazines, other mediums that speak to me. I came across it again this week. I suppose I realized awhile back that my parents were their own people. Had their own life, own dreams and ideals outside of my own life. It didn't hit like a strike of lightning, but the more I think of it, that's exactly what it is.
Maybe some moment in therapy, when I had to step outside of myself to get through the moments of my past. Maybe some moment, when I realized I needed them in my life, but I also wanted them in my life. Not just as my parents, but as my friends. I don't care if that sounds as cheesy as it feels writing it, because simply it's true. I'm just glad-- I'm blessed--so fortunately-- because it didn't take a horrific act to bring about this revelation. No diagnosed disease, no deathbed, nothing horrible. Just the simple--conversation over cups of coffee, card games at the kitchen table, shared memories and moments of laughter.
Maybe I'm naive, maybe I'm realistic. I choose to believe I'm fortunate. That my parents, regardless of their mistakes which affected me, as their child, are still just people. People that screw up, people who make mistakes; but people, who live and love with everything they have. People I would chose to be in my life, and I'm just lucky they are by default.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have this *thing* hanging over my head. A monster hiding in all the closets, under the bed, behind every dark corner, and I'm sure in the back seat of my car. I can't go anywhere without it, a nasty, hideous monster that has become my shadow. But I'm taking steps to get through it. And I'm still not sure how bad it's going to get before it gets better...it could be fine, it could get worse. I don't know much of anything now, I've done all there is to do on my part. And now I must wait.

But I can't stop living my life. Amidst all the waiting I must live. And I want it to be my best life. Be my best self. I'm actively choosing to make a difference. To stop waiting for lightning to strike before I make a move. Simple changes, but I feel so much better. I've become focused, determined, something tangable I can work with. Something that doesn't require sitting around and waiting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maybe I've stumbled upon rose colored glasses. Maybe I've got the glass is half full syndrome. Whatever the case may be I'm heading into it with my eyes wide open. Just happy that I'm living, breathing, doing what makes sense to me.

And nobody can take that away from me.

Memories~

Wellbutrin HCL 150 MG SRTB W
Take one tablet by mouth twice daily

Among the photographs
Beside the momentos-
of happy times
Surrounded by color and light--
And Life
The dark cloud sits.
The amber bottle~
The white pills~
The label with my name on it.

A reminder of where I should be
The catalyst of my life.

I've kept it as I keep all things....
a token of my little story.
A collection of pieces that once put together make up my life.

It is Before and After

Maybe it should be Always...

~Normal is just a cycle on the washing machine~
Whoopi Goldberg

Then and Now

I'm pissed off.
I'm frustrated.

I'm walking the line of what's happened, and what should have happened.

I'm trying to stay grounded.
I'm trying to be honest, without getting angry.

The real truth, nothing but the truth, so help me God~

I've never been an overly social person. I've had my friends throughout the years, mostly people of place and time. No strong bonds linking us together. We shared a past. But I didn't want to share a future. There were too many times I saw my shadow get up and leave. Shocked that I'd been here, done that...because it wasn't me at all.

When I left...I knew I would never come back. These were not people I wanted in my life. These were not times I would remember fondly. These were friends, these were moments, of place and time. Of circumstance.

Whitworth, as it turned out, was also an institution of place and time. In the beginning it was a new opportunity. I learned quickly enough, that it was not. In many respects it was just the same. It was high school all over again. I shared my life, my heart, my family. I shared late nights, I shared study breaks and cram sessions. I shared my car, my food, my toothpaste. Everything that was me was open. I was honest~to a point. I was nice~to a fault.

That's when the wall came tumbling down. That's when my spirit crashed all around me. It broke. Everything shattered in my life. I was drowning and I couldn't get enough air. And those friends, those people I shared everything with...were gone. I saw the shadow of me get up and leave. Screaming that this wasn't safe. Because somewhere along the line of time and place I had given away my heart and it was now tossed aside, shattered and broken on the floor.

The process was long and hard. I fought my way out of it. But even in all the hurt, I was careful. I made sure not to let my friends know how much they had hurt me. It would have been easy--spread the pain I was feeling, bring everybody down. I kept it inside. I didn't want to hurt them as they'd hurt me...it was too much pain to bare...nothing I would want a friend to feel.

Now I'm here again but I can't do it all again. I can't watch my shadow get up and run away, blinded by this person who is no longer me. I just want to yell and scream and tell them they're no longer invited into my life. They're no longer allowed to treat me like this. This was it...it's over now.

The Last Chance ship just sailed away, and you weren't on it. Sorry no refunds.

Don't Rain on my Parade

Who's going to argue with Babs?

I'm gonna live and live now
Get what I want--I know how

Maybe I should get a t-shirt or something. A hat, a messenger bag of some kind. I'm not above getting the damn thing tattooed on my forehead.

I know what I'm doing. I've figured out what I want. I'm actively choosing to be the person I want to be, living the life I want to live.

There are some days, when I don't even want to leave the house. Days when I won't answer the phone. Days I don't have to go anywhere or see anybody. To me, this is bliss. From waking up, enjoying my coffee, to drinking my tea and going to bed.

All too often I feel like a 70 year old woman trapped in a 22 year old lifestyle.

What I wish is that it would be okay for me to live my life. 22 or 70 or whatever. Without friends who so closely resemble obstacles. Without people insistent on telling me what I should be doing.

Life is good.

I'm gonna live and live now
Get what I want--I know how

Independence Day

Horray! It's that time of year again....my favorite day of the year.

Sure, I love a good old saturday, I love my birthday, love love love Christmas day, and New Year's. The first day of fall, and any snow day is good. I love special days, and am partial to holidays.

But nothing compares to Independence day!

Growing up, I don't remember many fantastic event filled days. I remember watching fireworks~many colorful night skys dot my memory and yet all blur together. I remember always wanting a plan, always wondering what the plan was, watching the clock tick closer and closer to sunset. I remember those years getting in trouble because I wasn't where I said I would be. I remember always hoping, this would be the magical year that my dreams came true.

Two years ago my dreams came true. I spend an amazing day with my family. The Boitanos. (oh, the honeymoon crash of 2004 :) The Gregorys. World class day. Something magical happened when I wasn't even looking.

Maybe it's the combination of things. Good old Thomas Jefferson (my hero) full of ideals, full of promise writing that declaration. It's the idealism in me...wishing I lived in a country I could be proud of...okay, the history major in me is showing....wishing the fundamental things still applied TJ wrote about, not some interpretation massacred by America's right-wing~~oh, the hateful right! >:(

The promise of a better tomorrow. Saturdays spent watching baseball. Drinking coca~cola. Playing poker. Eating ice cream. Oh, the American dream. I like that for one day we can pretend times are good, like they used to be, and that they will always continue to be.

Collide

I was having one of those moments~
Where everything is right.
Every breath is peace.
Every thought is hope.

Alone in the car~
Just me and my mind.
The sun filling the void.
The radio blasting everything else away.

There are times when I feel happiness. When I think it's something I can have~eternally. Being on the road makes me feel invinsible. Top of the world. Love and sunshine.

Before it all comes crashing down around me. Then I just laugh at myself.
I look in the mirror and I laugh. Sardonically. Did I really think I could get away with this? Did I really think this could be my life? Still looking in the mirror, I sigh.
And then I walk away.

I feel like I'm in one of those rooms, with the two~way mirror.

Sometimes I'm on the outside. I can see people, hear what they're saying. They have no idea I'm there, that I'm now privy to who they thought they were hidden away like this. It gives me an advantage, maybe, or maybe now I've seen too much.

Sometimes I feel I'm on the inside. Knowing people are catching these little clues. Figuring out my behavior, analyzing, trying to get what it means.

Maybe it's all bullshit. Maybe I'm overstimulated. Maybe I'm letting my imagination take me to the life I want.

Today, though...I felt like I was really living the life I want. I was taking steps, consciously doing what I wanted to be doing. I was so alive in each moment, really appreciating every second, and looking forward to the next. I was driving back "home" from home~a drive that has always felt familiar, always felt right. The sun was shining, the coffee was refreshing, the music was invigorating.

And then~ I stupidly answer the phone. Fuck. The smooth calm was instantly shattered into a million little pieces. These people are supposed to be my friends. But I began moving in a very different direction a long time ago. We're not on the same page anymore; I'm not so sure we were ever in the same book, let alone page. In fact, I'm not too sure we were ever in the same genre. Just a least common denominator. The whole us against whitworth thing.

I just want to shatter the glass. Break the two~way mirror. Scream and yell. "You know I see the other side of you. You know I see who you really are. I see it, what you've been hiding." That's when I'll make my escape. Running away from the life I used to think I wanted.

State of mine

I just want to lie in my bed, hide under the covers, and never come out. Of course, it's way to freaking hot to be under any kind of blankets, meaning I'll have to resort to Plan B. Get a nice buzz going...And then proceed through the rest of my day, the rest of this week. Shit, how about the next several months.

Today is the anniversary we moved to Boise. The big scary day is already so far away. Hey, a little rhyme. That big, life defining moment is just over. And now I'm 365 days on this side of it..Seeing, really knowing I can get through the next few months like I got through the last year.

When I was little, whenever I was at the dentist office, I would psych myself up. Get through the pain...Go somewhere else...it was my little mantra. But I would have this little conversation in my brain about how one day, soon I would look back on this moment and it would be so far away...It was just a day. Just like summer vacation passed too quickly, the days blurring into one; I would convince myself this hour, this day too...would just pass, without feeling every excruciating second.

I guess I'm back there now. Having that silly little conversation in my head. I've got these big things happening right now. Scary. Quitting my job...going back to the kids full time. Which I'm so excited for, even though I know I use it as an escape. Money. Fuck it. I hate money. I hate what it does. I hate having my relationships affected by $$$$$. But they are. It's becoming an issue where it can't be. I won't let it. I've been in that game too long, and I won't go back there.

Welcome to the real world. Ha!

If that's the case, it's true what they say~~ reality bites!

Please leave a message....

I'm tired of the complaints that I never answer my phone. I'm tired of hearing that I don't return phone calls. When I was younger and the phone would ring I would beg my family not to answer it. They would surely leave a message if it was important. If someone had to answer, my excuse was planned, and always well executed. "She's in the shower. She's outside. She went to Safeway with her mom. She's doing her homework. She's busy." Whatever the words, the message was always the same....she doesn't want the interruption.

Not a lot about me has changed.

The damn phone keeps ringing; there's no one to cover for me anymore.

It's really got me thinking....this disconnect with the world. I used to dream I could live in a town where nobody knew me. Where I could go and be and do--anonymously. I've somehow stumbled onto that little paradise. No expectations. No requirements. Just me and my day. It's why I hate the cell phone, hate the drop in. Because then I feel like I've just lost this great moment or something~I have to share my time. I have to give in.

I've been cranky and tired and irritable lately. I know why. I've got this huge life thing hanging over my head. But I've learned the hard way I don't have too many people in my life I can count on. Two. Two people won't judge, won't speculate, won't offer advice. Two people will continue on loving me, continue on supporting me, picking me up when I can't walk by myself.

It's just for so long I went on answering the phone. I went on being what people needed me to be. It wasn't me. It was the girl I thought I should be.

And she got clobbered.

You want to talk to me...too fucking bad! Maybe I don't want to talk. Leave a message...maybe I'll call back; probably not. I've been working all day and I just want a little quiet. I just want to settle out the storm in my mind. The thing is I can do that. I get that right. I don't have to answer my phone. Nobody can be mad about that. Nobody gets to be mad at me for that. It's my life. My problems, my time, my way. I tried the sharing route...I got clobbered.

Rumor has it that flushing a cell phone kills it instantly :) ;)

It's good to go through life with a sister~

~Because she knows how you got that way; and loves you anyway.

Everything is better when we're together. Okay, not everything...that's why I moved out. ;)That's why I moved back here. Staying in that house could have cost us our relationship. Leaving saved it. Although, eventually, staying in Idaho could have saved it too. I just didn't give that a chance...

I don't know if all families have this bond, if all sisters feel this close. Is it our personalities? Is it our past? Is it her, is it me, is it the perfect balance? My sister is the one person in my life who has always been there for me. Did I always deserve it--no. Was I always there for her--hardly.
But she's always stuck by me, always been there when I needed somebody to take care of me.

Gypsy and Maverick...see...we can have a better time than most can dream of, better than the best. We are so similar...yet parts of us are like night and day. She taught me how to be a feminist...I taught her how to ride a bike. I moved out first, she fell in love first. We like the same music, and the same books....sometimes I'm scared of how intellegent she is. It's why I take such pleasure in kicking her ass in rummy...which happens enough to make me forget all the scrabble losses. She likes peasoup...makes me want to gag. I drink coffee everyday, she drinks tea. Together, the two of us in a dressing room is unforgettable...laughing so hard I pee my pants. Going to the lake...it's the same for us...the magic. It's real. She makes the best top ramen ever. I won't eat that crap when I cook it.

She is my best friend and it sucks living so far away. I was so excited for her to come, and we had such a good time. Now she's gone and I'm sad :( because nobody quite gets me like she does. So I want to throw a temper tantrum and be 7 years old again and scream and cry because my friend's gone. I want to yell at everyone who tries to be my friend, because they don't come close to my sister, and the attempt sucks.

But I'm not 7. I'm twenty freaking two. Damn it. No temper tantrums. I have to be happy for her. Because I've let her down so much. There were so many times I wasn't the sister she's always been for me, the one she needed. I have to be happy for her~moving on with her life. Settling down, starting her own family. For shit sakes, I set her up with matt...what did I expect?

I didn't expect to lose my sister.

I'm just crabby. I'm still debating that temper tantrum...it would be so much easier. Scream, throw things, march off in my pink footsie jammies.

Tempting.....

Sunday Night's Alright

At the end of the day, there are some things you just can't help but talk about.
Some things we just don't want to hear, and some things we say because we can't be silent any longer.
Some things are more than what you say, they're what you do.
Some things you say cause there's no other choice.
Some things you keep to yourself.
And not too often, but every now and then, some things simply speak for themselves.

Meredith Grey ~ Grey's Anatomy

Walking the Mental Path

"As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives." Henry David Thoreau

I've been fighting more lately. Fighting myself, my decisions--past, present, future--fighting, just to keep moving. Today I found this place, sure it's no Walden; it was, however, enchanting. It was perfect. Listening to the rain and the birds, and of course, the occasional siren and that damn traffic. :) But for a few hours I felt like stepping out of time. Into a place that resembled somewhere somebody may have lived.....a long, long time ago. Invisible to the world. Just me, alone. Able to think. Able to write. Able to be.

Like Crack, only not.

My writing has become an addiction. The only way to stop the thoughts swarming around in my brain. The only way to quiet the forces taking over my mind.

When I'm not writing, I'm thinking about writing--which words to use, thoughts to convey, feelings to hide, emotions to show. I feel like they're on my sleeve. To see me, you'd be able to look into my eyes and know what I'm feeling. It's keeping me up at night, waking me in the morning.

It's the nagging feeling, that whatever it is, must be powerful enough to have taken over.
Whatever I'm trying to reach, question, solve, find...must be important.

Here's hoping that I'm getting closer to something. That it is an answer I'm looking for. I could just be searching. That whole, the journey is the destination.

Not Ready to Make Nice

The Dixie Chicks say it best. I've been blaring this song in my apartment, in my car, on my ipod. Everywhere I go these words are running through my head.

I'm just tired of this perception of what I should be doing. What I should want my life to be. What I should be doing to get it there. The thing is I'm pretty sure I've already done that. Quitting school, moving to Boise, these were not decisions I made lightly. Moving back, working...again, took some time to come up with these.

The thing is I don't have any regrets. I was mad and angry--it had become my personality. Mad. Angry. Over and over. But I changed it. I changed my life. For the better. Now that I'm back I make no apologies to anybody. I'm not going to live anybody's version of life.

Afterall, I'm pretty fucking happy with my version of life.


"Forgive, sounds good.
Forget, I'm not sure I could.
They say time heals everything,
But I'm still waiting
I'm through, with doubt,
There's nothing left for me to figure out,
I've paid a price, and i'll keep paying
I'm not ready to make nice,
I'm not ready to back down,
I'm still mad as hell
And I don't have time
To go round and round and round
It's too late to make it right
I probably wouldn't if I could
Cause I'm mad as hell
Can't bring myself to do what it is
You think I should
I know you said
Why can't you just get over it,
It turned my whole world around
and i kind of like it
I made by bed, and I sleep like a baby,
With no regrets and I don't mind saying"

Wreck of a day....

This day--
....this week
....this month
....this year.

What a fucking wreck.

It's a slow process. The crash. The impact. The instant without motion, without sound, without feeling. The fallout.

Rinse and repeat.

I can't get out of the maze. I cannot escape this brick wall. I keep crashing into it. Eyes wide open. Head first. Smash.

I can feel it in small doses coming back. Creeping into little parts of my life. Sneaking into the places it can hide, stay awhile, fester and grow. The realization makes me sick. Sick with myself. Sick of myself.

If I started the storm....do I get a life-preserver???

do I get a life-preserver???

It has all just been an escape, this running away. Eventually it was bound to catch up to me. My version of what I should be doing is destroyed. I have no fucking clue what I should be doing.

I dropped the fuck outta school. And left. I quit my job, I moved to a new state--of mind, of denial, of the USA. I got a new job. A new outlook. I was cured. I self-medicated. I took care of myself. I was running. I left everything.

I dropped everything, a halfassed attempt...story of my life.

I ran and ran and ran. In my mind I was always running. To a brighter future. To a safe harbor.

I kept running even when things settled, seemed to be doing okay. When the bottom dropped out of my safety net I packed up, and kept running. I figured it was safe to return. Back to my roots.

I came back to this town...funny enough, back to one job. One job that is so full of ups and downs I question it every step of the way. It's a good thing. It's a bad thing. It pays the bills. Which is where my resolution must lie, at least for now.

When will I stop running?

When will it be over? For too long I knew I was pretending. I was doing what I knew I should be doing. Counseling. Anti-depressants. Check. Check. But I quit cold turkey. I was stronger than that.

I thought I should be better. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was safe.

But I'm still angry. I'm still scared.

As I sit here, look around at my life....where can I even go from here? Do I run again? Am I out of options...sit here and face it. My fear is that in facing it....it will only get worse. Then I will realize all those moments that I was simply faking it. That I had it all figured out. It's laughable. I don't know where to go from here. Where I went wrong.

Because I'm still angry. I'm still scared. It's coming back. I'm drowning in the panic. I'm crashing. I can feel it. Time stops. You realize you have no control. For one second you can see it--and then it happens. From every direction the pain consumes you whole. The fallout.

The resolution???

I've seen how easy it is to create a resolution. To wrap it up nicely in pretty packaging. Something safe. Something pretty. But the image doesn't last long.

The bomb goes off....catching me completely off-guard.

Summer Lovin'

Sometimes happiness is as close as a bottle of Jose Cuervo.

What the fuck is with this weather?!?!

It's the kind of heat that usually smacks you in the middle of July or some time in August. A heat so unbearable you can't sleep at night. The kind that makes you forget about snow...so hot you can't even fathom winter. A heat from the moment you wake up until the moment you finally fall asleep.

I'm loving it! Summer is here, and she came roaring out of nowhere.

The last few days I've spend lounging by the pool, blaring the ipod, feeling the sun on my skin. Running through sprinklers with toddlers and listening to their squeals of delight. Drinking margaritas and letting the rest of the world fade with the sunset. Being barefoot with painted toenails.

Everything, Everything is better in the summer. Baseball season. Coors Light any time of the day or night. Camping. Priest Lake. Huckleberries. Sandals. Skirts. Ice Cream. Flowers. Lazy Afternoons. Root Beer.




~Nothing but love and sunshine~

The Graduate

I survived Whitworth Graduation: Class 2006.

My vantage point: the stands. Nope, not with the people I started my freshman year with. Not with the history majors huddled together, hearing Dr. Mig put sound to everything they were feeling just by calling each name. Not with a cap and gown and bright future floating beside me. No words of wisdom directed my way.

Spec-ta-tor: n. a person who looks on at a show, game, incident, et.
Witness. Observer. Viewer. Onlooker.

I put my feelings away. Pushed them down, forced to swallow them--while they ate away my insides. Made it hard to breathe. Made it hard to be. Whitworth College. Class of 2006. Whitworth College Class of 2006.

I did it for Emily. It was her weekend...she made it through. She graduated. She deserves a celebration.

Do I wish I had stayed at Whitworth? Sometimes. But I don't think about that too much. I can't go back. And I couldn't do it then. At that time I wasn't strong enough to stay. And it had nothing to do with academics.

It was a brilliant education. Whitworth changed my life, for the better, for the worse. A lot of who I am today was shaped by my experiences through the years. Fantastic professers asking the hard questions, and listening to your answers. Waiting with you while you figured them out. Whitworth gave me a huge part of my foundation...which I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

I mesome amazing friends there, some of the most important people in my life....some of the most amazing conversations I've ever had, or will ever had, happened on that campus.

As the weekend came to a close, I counted my blessings....for the privledge to have gone to Whitworth.

And for the privledge to one day, maybe, walk across that stage.

Comedienne

So I have this dream last night....

I'm walking up this ladder, which leads to a stage....and I mean, this ladder is 30, 40 feet long, at least. And I'm walking up to this stage so that I can preform my stand-up routine and it dawns on me: this is for my class reunion.

And all my high school classmates will be here.

I'm panicking as I'm getting closer and closer to this floating stage because I cannot preform my routine...

My material is all about them.

All of my jokes, every little bit is about these whackos who went to my high school. And every step I take is torture knowing I can't, (can I?!?!) go out there and mock them to their faces? Will they get it's them? Could I do it under the radar?? So I'm finally reaching this stage and I go out there and I make it. New stuff. And I blow them all away with some real laughs. Some fantastic improv.

And now my question is this....is destiny knocking on my door?

Should I abandon ship and start my comedy circuit??

My Heart is Smiling

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28

Yesterday I walked back into the lives of two of the most important people I have ever known. Two beautiful little children, two smiling little faces that I've missed so much. Two little innocent lives so filled with wonder, so ready to take on each day, experiencing life with true joy, with true abandon.

I've been meaning to call Tiffany since I moved back to Spokane. To stop in and see her and the kids. To take just a few hours and spend some quality time. I had this feeling, this feeling yesterday, to pick up the phone, just call her already. That's exactly what I did. And it was more than a feeling. It was a little divine assistance, a little push in the right direction. Turns out she had to fire her old nanny. Turns out she was trying to track me down.

There are experiences in my life I will never forget. There are experiences I am forever remembering. With such vividness I can still hear the music that was playing, or the way the breeze felt on my skin, or the way my anger burned like fire within me. Full of emotion. Full of life.

The moment Jacquelyn saw me she came running into my lap, jumped up and put her arms around me. Put her face right next to my face and said "I missed you Heather."
And my heart just melted.

The decision was made. As soon as those kids were back in my life. I can't walk away. This is where I'm meant to be right now. Regardless of the money, or the commitment to RR, I won't walk away from these kids. That is where my commitment is. Not to some restaurant, not to any corporation, not to any manager.

My family is the most important thing on this planet to me. Being part of their family is a very close second. This is a real job. This is real love.

And I've been struggling with the job front. Staying at Red Robin has been a continuing battle for me. Such extreme highs and lows. Such extreme feelings, such horrible moments, not too many great ones, but a nice way to get the bills paid on time. I've been wrestling with the question of staying at a good paying place I hate or a lower paying job I love.

But again with that protection, the Good Shepard guarding His sheep. The safety and security I know my life is surrounded with. I'm in good hands.

Now simply, it's orchestrated and I'm back with two jobs I love. Two jobs I'm happy about, and excited to go to. I can balance the coffee-shop girl and the nanny-girl.

Footprints

One night a man had a dream. He dreamed
he was walking along the beach with the LORD.

Across the sky flashed scenes from his life.
For each scene he noticed two sets of
footprints in the sand: one belonging
to him, and the other to the LORD.

When the last scene of his life flashed before him,
he looked back at the footprints in the sand.

He noticed that many times along the path of
his life there was only one set of footprints.

He also noticed that it happened at the very
lowest and saddest times in his life.

This really bothered him and he
questioned the LORD about it:

"LORD, you said that once I decided to follow
you, you'd walk with me all the way.
But I have noticed that during the most
troublesome times in my life,
there is only one set of footprints.
I don't understand why when
I needed you most you would leave me."

The LORD replied:

"My son, my precious child,
I love you and I would never leave you.
During your times of trial and suffering,
when you see only one set of footprints,
it was then that I carried you."

Extensions of me

The snort...the nervous laugh...the delay, and then slowly, the response: "You Blog?" And then, that damn nervous laugh again, time stops, and slowly...each letter comes out like a pulled tooth, painfully, agonizingly, a giant feat in just forming the words I know are coming: "W-H-Y? What are you hoping to get from it anyway?"

I write because it is who I am.

I write as an extension of myself.

As some people play instruments, fish, golf, read, jog, sing, play cards, camp, travel, shop, paint...whatever, it makes them whole, it makes them who they are.

And I write. Publicly, privately...there are things I want to put out there, just for the sake of putting them out there, out into the void, whether or not anybody ever reads anything I have to say. There are some thoughts so personal, some things I haven't shared yet; the beginnings of novels, articles, poems, words, phrases, etc... Writing, words, makes me connect to everything, to anything. It solidifies who I am and what I want to be.

I may never have what it takes to publish anything. But I do know this, I certainly won't do anything successfully without a little practice.

I write because I can. When everything is good, when everything is bad, when I don't know whether things are good or bad--I write. I try different things out, different styles, different formats, different emotions.

I write and I'll keep on writing.

Because it is in my soul, it is who I was meant to be.

Hotter than a Two-Dollar Pistol, Baby I'm on Fire..

I want to dance in the rain.
I want to skip through puddles.

I want to be footloose and fancy free.

I wake up this morning with my heart thumping so hard it just might pound right out of my chest. Chest-pains? Nah. Frustrations? No. Happiness? Maybe. Contentment? Yes. Euphoria? Yes. Giddiness? Hell Yes.

The bad times are a distant memory. Because my heart is alive. Today the joy of my life radiates through my veins like electrical currents. I feel like I've crossed over to the bright side. Forever. I've made the journey and I'm eternally bathed in sunshine.

It's that feeling that only happens once a year. That moment when spring is here and summer is on the way and the sun is warm on your face, on your arms, and legs and it reaches through your skin, to the core of who you are. Warmth; reassurance after a cold winter that yes, the best is here.

I want to call up my family and pass around "I love you" and "you are so important in my life" because I want them to feel this joy. I want everyone to feel this love. Caught off guard by life I suddenly realize I am protected, I am safe, this is good.

I feel selfish holding onto this myself. I have to share it. I have to pass it on. I have to get on my knees and thank God that He's lifted me up like this. The torment isn't real. THIS IS REAL BABY. This is the stuff dreams are made of.

This is the fire. The fire people talked about, a life "ablaze for Christ." I was so turned off, so close-minded. But it's true. I can't keep still, I can't turn my mind off, I can't stop rejoicing.

This is the life. The pain brought me here. And it was hard, so hard that I couldn't imagine ever feeling anything different. But this is the life I was meant to live. All those far off dreams--those have become my reality.

These are the moments.

"Your real security is yourself. You know you can do it, and they can't ever take that away from you." Mae West

The Best of the Worst

There are times when I'm just fighting to breathe. When I can't hold on to anything else But. I. Can. Keep. Breathing.

I can't get any control. Of my feelings, of my mind, of my heart. I just keep moving into the next moment wishing I could be swallowed up by the universe. Moments I just want to go numb.

There are times when I want to drink so much I block out all the thoughts zigzagging through my brain. Even after everything I am so tempted by a bottle of booze that I succumb to it, just to feel nothing. Just to burn with the feeling of nothing.

There are the moments I feel like I'm buried alive. Where I can't even breathe. Where the weight pressing down on my chest is too much. I can't handle it. I have to resign.

And it takes so much of me--to keep fighting. Because these days hit me and I have no warning and I'm lost before I even saw it coming. And I don't want to fight. I can't even remember the times I'm okay, even though I KNOW they happen, and they are the majority. But why then, do I still suffer with these days. With these thoughts.

I'm still falling...

Why can't this be over? Why am I still falling?

And I don't want to fight. I don't want to breathe. I want to be numb. I want to be left alone. I couldn't care less about the expectations. I couldn't care less about the responsibilities.

The trouble is too much. These thoughts are too much. They are crushing me.

They are burying me alive.

Working hard for it honey....

Victory is mine! Victory is mine!

Bring me the finest bagles and coffee in the land!!

I GOT THE JOB!

The second interview was fabulous...absolutely fab. ab-fab!!!. This is everything I want in a job. Relaxed; great environment, great company, great coffee, great people, great books, great music, great money, great benefits, great dresscode; everything is perfect!

Everything, everything works out for the Gregory's.

I've been doubting the decision to move back to Spokane because of the whole work disaster. I left a job I was, quite frankly, smitten with. I loved the atmosphere, the people, the pay wasn't great, but the future was promising. And then, whammo, I up and left it. Hoping, ever so much that I would transition to a place I would be equally smitten with. WRONG. And then just when I was regretting my decision I'm hired at a place that couldn't be more me if I opened it myself.

Just from my interview I feel better about BORDERS than I have about Northpointe RR in the two months I've been working there. A relaxed atmosphere where people go to chill...I'm smitten already.

This is how I role...This is the stuff dreams are made of, the place where legends never die. To find your happy place you must go out and get it. Nobody is out to make your dreams come true. But it's simple. Find what you enjoy and spend time doing it. And work was bringing me down. And I won't do anything that makes me feel bad about myself; especially for money. For now, yes, I have to keep the job that brings in the biggest paycheck, I have to keep up my hours simply because I have to pay my bills.

I will not settle. I will be happy. And I won't stop the search until I am. But right now, everything seems to have aligned. Everything seems to be in place--'cause from where I'm sitting...I see nothing but love and sunshine. Oh, and some books, and a whole lot of coffee!

life and stuff

>I am happiest in blue jeans and a t-shirt with my hair in a ponytail.
>I'd rather stay in with a good book and matching pj's with some music on the stereo than hitting the bars wearing clothes that make a fashion statement whether I want them to or not.
>I love to watch movies and read and there are so many classics that are just waiting for me.
>Priest Lake is magical for me. And I don't like sharing that with everybody.
>I'm comfortable with and proud of myself and my Self. I'm happy with my body and my mind and my heart and I won't let anybody make me feel ugly.
>I am funny. In a wistfully, witty, cynical, sarcastic, slightly neurotic way. Sometimes I steal material that I read or hear or see that is funny. But a lot of it is my own, and it feels good to make people laugh.
>My morning cup of coffee makes my whole day smile. Add my favorite mug and I'm downright giddy.
>Pink fingernail polish is my favorite because it makes me want to braid my hair and go on playground swings and play like I'm seven years old again.
>I am scared of losing my parents and not being able to survive without them. I am terrified of the moment I will be separated from my family.
>Huck Finn is one of the best books I have ever read.
>I'm constantly reminding myself I'm smart enough and capable enough to do whatever I want.
>I am happy looking at pictures 24 hours a day.
>My dream is to write a book, leaving an influence on just one person...This goal is so sacred I may be too afraid to fail that I never try.
>I love red vines. They remind me, simultaneously, of camping, baseball, movies and playing cards. With every licorice stick I'm riding a fascinating montage of great memories.
>I wish I had a theme song that played every time I came into a room :)(We Built this City?? Saturday Night? My Sharona??)
>I wish we got points for being silly and stopped using money as a way of keeping score.
>I don't like the smell of crayons.
>Charlie Brown and the whole Peanuts gang makes my heart smile.
>I want to make a difference in people's lives "and buy them all a coke."
>I don't get eyelash curlers, and even if I did...I wear glasses and my eyelashes are already long enough to be annoying.
>Root Beer is freaking awesome. Add some vanilla ice-cream and we're talking heavenly.
>Hearing children laugh is the music to my soul. That's the one sound I could never get tired of.
>I cannot, for the life of me, beat my mother at a Scrabble game. Eventually I've got to get some points for at least trying.
>There are things I still want to do in life, but mine has been complete since the moment I began a relationship with Jesus Christ and have been completely fulfilled by that.
>I can't wait to be an Aunt and hang with my neices and nephews (no hurry though to either one of my siblings).
>I already have the house plans for the place I want to build in Idaho on some land "given" to me by my parents.
>I don't like to fly and I'm not a big fan of airports.
>Someday I want to go to a movie theater by myself.
>I have no desire to travel by myself.
>I know and experience real, unadultrated JOY on a daily basis.

Fearless

Haunted by a jaded past
Never thought that love could last
Hope was but a castaway at sea
Skepticism took it's toll
Closed the windows to my soul
Was fighting just to keep my sanity

When out of the noise I could hear You breathing
You came along knowing just what I needed
Turned me around and ya got me believin'
You would die for me

Now I'm fearless with nothing left to hide
All the doubts of yesterday, love has driven them away
And now I'm fearless when I am by Your side
It's forever me and You in this covenant of truth
Ya know I'm fearless...oh yeah

Patiently You stripped away
The walls of pride that I had raised
You revealed the child inside of me
We will run and not grow old
Soar on wings as I've been told
Together we will fly the heavenlies

Cause out of the noise I could hear You breathing
You came along knowing just what I needed
Turned me around and ya got me believin'
I would die for You

Some of us leave the vine
Some of us fall in line
All of us have a friend in Jesus
Some of us live in fear
Some of us persevere
Knowing that You are near me, I am fearless
~Fearless~DC Talk

Sweet 16 Baby! (I love March Madness)

http://msn.foxsports.com/cbk/story/5422424

SALT LAKE CITY (AP) - That wispy mustache shouldn't fool anyone. Adam Morrison and his Gonzaga teammates are up there with the big boys of college basketball - in large part because there's more to the Zags than just their superstar.

The Zags proved they're much more than a one-man show Saturday in the second round of the tournament, defeating the Hoosiers 90-80 and making Indiana coach Mike Davis' resignation official despite getting only 14 points from Morrison.
March to Madness

With Indiana defenders draping themselves over Morrison - he of the scraggly, boyish mustache that has provided plenty of tournament snickers - J.P. Batista had 20 points and nine rebounds, Erroll Knight had 11 points and Sean Mallon had a career game with 15 points and 10 rebounds.

"People commit so many resources to stopping Adam that we try to play off that," Gonzaga coach Mark Few said. "If you really watched us, you can see that he's done a nice job of it, and the group has done a nice job of it."

The victory got the third-seeded Bulldogs (29-3) out of the first weekend of the tournament for the first time since 2001, back when they were considered more plucky underdogs than the powerhouse they've become. Gonzaga was ranked in the top 10 all season and made the tournament for the eighth straight time.

"They were a third seed and they probably should have been a one seed," Davis said. "They were the best three seed in the tournament for sure."

And they knocked Indiana out, meaning Davis' next task is to head back to Bloomington to clear out his office.

He announced his resignation last month, effective at the end of the season. The end came despite a super effort from the sixth-seeded Hoosiers (19-12), who nearly won this game from the 3-point line, scoring all but 10 of their 49 second-half points from there.

"My first thought was, I was just proud of the boys," Davis said. "Don't be sad for me. You should be happy for me because I had a great opportunity to coach one of the greatest schools in college basketball."

Next up for Gonzaga is UCLA in the Oakland Regional, where Morrison will have another chance to make his case as the best player in the country.

The junior forward certainly wasn't great against Indiana.

"It's not going to be my night every night," Morrison said. "We still survive and win."

He shot 5-for-17, marking only the sixth time this season he's been held under 20 points. He was frustrated, much as he was in the first-round win against Xavier, and it boiled over early in the second half when he started jawing with Roderick Wilmont.

"Let's not give us a lot of credit, OK," Davis said. "Because he missed some shots today. He got a lot of looks. He still caught the ball."

Morrison and Wilmont each got technicals after their tiff, though it was another T, 22 seconds later on Indiana center Marco Killingsworth, that completely changed this game.

The technical, right after a personal foul, gave Killingsworth four fouls and put him on the bench - turning Indiana's strategy into a 3-or-nothing game. The Hoosiers hit a bunch - 13 to be exact - in the second half and kept the game within reach for most of it.

Robert Vaden went 6-for-13 from behind the line, Marshall Strickland went 6-for-9 and A.J. Ratliff went 3-for-7, along with doing a nice job on Morrison. For a brief moment, it looked as if Davis' plan to trade 3-for-2 down the stretch might actually extend his stay at Indiana.

It wasn't to be, though, and that was mainly because Indiana couldn't stop Gonzaga's wide assortment of long, lanky guys underneath.

Mallon, the 6-foot-9 forward who was once envisioned as the cornerstone of the Gonzaga program, matched his career high in rebounds.

Batista easily won the matchup against Killingsworth (12 points), in large part because he stayed on the court longer.

Knight, a 6-7 swingman, overcame a 102-degree fever earlier in the day, finished 4-for-5 from the floor and gave the Hoosiers fits trying to cover him.

"We have some other players that can really make plays, and they all did tonight," Few said.

With 18 seconds left in his troubled six-year tenure at Indiana, Davis pulled Strickland from the game and the two shared a long hug - the senior guard burying his head in the coach's shoulder.

Then, Davis ended it with class, telling his players to simply dribble out the clock and end it - trailing by 10 and with no chance to win.

He got a nice hand from the few Indiana fans left in the gym when he came to courtside for a radio interview.

In the postgame news conference, his players offered their testimonials.

"He's like a father to me," said Vaden, whose own dad died last summer. "I love him with all my heart. I'm sure he loves me forever. You've just got to move on."

And Strickland: "He helped me grow up. He tested me and really brought a lot of great things out in me."

Listening to that, Davis simply lowered his head to his knees, clearly overcome with emotion.

"I can't explain it," the coach said. "We've been through a lot together. I'm just proud of those guys."