Scheduled

I didn't plan on writing tonight.  I'm not sure what I'm going to write about.  I just have the desire to write. 

And, it's not like I have the most ideal writing environment right now.  I'm sitting on a worn chaise lounge, in front of the television which is blaring the Oscars, slightly bloated from too much popcorn and definitely too much ice cream. All of the lamps are on and I swear I'm going to punch someone if Anne Hathaway keeps talking.  It's an overstimulated environment. 

But, I long to write.  Something. 

It's a new goal of mine to write for an hour every single day.  Maybe it'll be on here.  Maybe it will be in a hidden journal that is intended just for me.  Or, maybe it'll just be for practice. 

Okay, Randy Newman's on now. Definitely not adding to the environment. 


We've really been struggling lately because there has been such a dramatic change in our time together.  K is student teaching, then planning, and then sleeping.  It's not his fault.  It's not his intention.  It's tough though, and I'm not going to lie about that.  I hate it.  I've been stomping my feet and pouting my lip and making it known that I don't like this one little bit. 

So, we made a schedule.  A weekly schedule of our obligations--to our work and to each other. 

It's not ideal, but it's necessary. 


I also need to make my own weekly schedule.  The work that I need to do will focus on interpersonal growth, and making money. 

I told myself today, out loud, "I'm going to find a job this week."


I'm serious too. That's my goal for the week.

But, part of me is understanding that I can take this time in my life and make it what I want to be. Maybe its suppose to be this way right now. Maybe I'm suppose to have time off and really think about what I want to do. Not necessarily long term, but in the everyday.


K's busy right now, and I'm not. I need to stop throwing tantrums and start embracing this gift of life. 

This is truly the time, when I should ask myself:  what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

This week, I'm going to stick to our schedule. 
 
And I'm also going to create my own. 
 
I'm going to wake up early.
 
I'm going to exercise.
 
I'm going to play hard with the puppy.
 
I'm going to cook great things.
 
I'm going to get the yard ready.
 
I'm going to start spring cleaning.
 
I'm going to write for an hour everyday.
 
I'm going to find my job.
 
I'm going to read some fantastic books.
 
I'm going to make a Spring List. 
 
I'm going to be thankful.
 
I'm going to show love.
 
I'm going to be happy.
 
 
I'm going to finally conquer what I intended to last month. 
 
 
 

Spring Preview and Saturdays

DID YOU SEE IT? 


Right there, in the middle of the picture.  A crocus.  Popping it's head out from under the chilly soil. 

They're coming.  Spring is coming. 

I'm all excited about this, and then I think about what I was anticipating for myself come Spring.  When I was plant the bulbs, I thought, "Life will be so grand, so easy, when these bloom. The colors will reflect the colors in your life." 

So, I have some work to do, because these things are going to shoot up and I'm kind of in a less than colorful mood.  In fact, I'm still on the grey side. 

Most likely, I will snap out of it when we have more daylight.  I'm confident about that. 

I have a subtle reminder in my garden right now.  To be happy.  To snap out of it.  To look ahead to great things.

Even when the rest of the garden looks like this.

And the backyard like this.

And the sky?  Like this.

Not a lot to work with.  So, I improvise.

I create my own sunshine. 

I put on a very anti-winter skirt. 

It's wrinkly, but that's how I like it because that feels like Spring even more. 

I stand in the yard and stare at melting snow and think, "Hurry up."


Today, is Saturday and that makes things a little bit easier.  Lately, my days have no difference as far as activity goes.  I have really nothing to do.  But, for some reason, Saturdays feel different.  They feel a little bit lighter and with more possibilities.  

I have learned to love my Saturdays.  Most days we do nothing, and that's the way to do it.  We've spent the night before better, out on the town, catching up. We wake up the next morning with our own to-do list, part ways, and don't check in until late in the afternoon. 

I like spending my Saturdays tidying up, making the bed while the dog rolls around on the ground, while old episodes of Sex and the City play in the background.  I put on clothes that make me feel pretty and it feels like the day is so much longer (in a good way).  I spend time looking for great shops on etsy.com. I finish the afternoon with Barefoot Contessa reruns and I imagine making some of that food. 

That's how I like my Saturday. 

In a couple of weeks, I'll add "sitting outside on the patio furniture" to the day, while I watch purple crocuses bloom and welcome in Spring, officially. 

Until then, I'll encourage the yard to dry up and focus on the little bit of green that I have. 

Happy Saturday.

Funk

I don't know if anyone has noticed this before, but February is the month when I tend to write a lot more posts. I think I had 14 posts last February.  I'm on number six right now, and I suspect there will be a few more before the month ends. 

That is because I am fed up with winter at this point.  I try to overcome it, but ultimately fail, and have nothing left to do but write about it and bitch about it. 

I woke up with a funk today.  Actually, it was a residual funk from yesterday.  Just funkiness funk. 

I don't necessarily have a solid reason to be so funky.  I guess the biggest issue right now is I can't find a job as a new RN, which is typical in this day and age.  It's out there, I just haven't found it yet and I am getting frustrated.

But, then I accept that fact and move on, and yet, the funk remains.  It's like this constant feeling that is carried with you wherever you go.  This little shadow that is cast on your skin.  A grey rain cloud that hovers over your head.  It's something else, more than the every day issues. 

Maybe it has do to with the state of my room.

Or maybe its because it snowed again.  Again. 

And yes its beautiful. But I'm tired of it.  It will get slushy and ugly soon. 

It's my moody winter blues.

Every year.  Without fail.  Welcome back, I guess.

So, here I sit. Writing about it.  This is probably the sixth year in a row that I've experienced winter depression.  Seasonal affective disorder or whatever.  The good thing is that I've recognized it, prepared myself for it, and have gotten use to coping with it. 

Here is how to cope:

Buy the new Adele album.  And Lori McKenna's.  And if that doesn't work, The Temper Trap too.


Wear a frilly shirt with puffy sleeves.

Followed by a pink pout

And, if that still doesn't help, add a pink scarf

Get out of the house and buy yourself something to help you remember the good you do.  Then hang it up so you see it everyday



Turn on that music that you bought earlier, add some Florence + The Machine, and play it as loud as your computer allows

Sit on your bed and read magazines that make you happy.  Like this month's House Beautiful which is all about pink

If that still doesn't work, do what you did last night: lift weights, run, bike, swim, then sit in the car in a grocery store parking lot and cry on the phone with your mom.

AND, if that still doesn't work, think about this weekend........

This weekend I went to Pittsburgh to go bridesmaids shopping with 2 out of 3 of the best girls I know.  We found their dresses in an hour and they both looked amazing.  I'm letting my girls pick out their own style, which is what I would want if I was ever a bridesmaid. 

The process was amazingly simple, as much of this wedding has been.  They tried on dresses that they loved, and even had time to try on those dresses that you know you'll look ridiculous in.  But, that's all part of the fun. 

We went for some yummy Mexican food afterwards, drank margaritas, laughed over mispronunciations of their popular dishes, and caught up.  They asked questions about what Seattle is like, and what is Nettie like, and is she excited too, and we can't wait to meet her.  (We really missed ya, Nets, and can't wait until June!)

After dinner, we said good-bye to Liz, and Theresa and I stayed up until 6 AM.  We poured over wedding magazines, and pictures of Seattle.  We talked about the wedding, and hilarious things, and about what we were like years ago.  We drank sweet wine at the beginning of our night, and then finished with gritty wine that matched our raw and gritty conversations.  We promised that this would be the last glass and that we would go to bed, but then quickly forgot as new topics came up.  We laughed and cried, and hugged, and did random photo shoots with roses and her dog, Hazel.  Around 4:30, we watched her wedding video and laughed as hard as we possibility could at oblivious family members and those uncensored moments that we know will be on my wedding video in October. 

We hung out in our pajamas, hair flat and tired from the day that we had just spent.  At 6, her husband came in the kitchen for work and we celebrated his entrance, then went to bed.  We woke up six hours later, showered, then started up new conversations over breakfast (well, really not breakfast at that time of the day), slightly hung over, but still dedicated to the day.  We emerged from the restaurant, refreshed and ready to make the most of the few hours we had left. 

The drive back and forth takes three hours, and I filled it with old music and thoughts of new memories.  I was overwhelmed at the similarity to that drive with the one that I would so often take from Eastern Washington back home when I was 18, living and studying in Spokane.  The wind that shakes the car, the constant curve of the road, the farms and old houses that line the highway,  they all took me back to the same car ride, in almost the same car, back in Washington. 

I would listen to Jason Mraz and sing as loud as I could, and everything felt right and open to me.  This drive, I sang to Jason Mraz and Hairspray, the music blaring and my voice following suit.  I thought about the people on the end of the drive, and how they love me and accept me, and are dancing in place for me to arrive. 

And, as I write this, the funk has dissolved. 

Things are as open now as they were before.  More open actually. 

I have love in my life.  I have girlfriends that are honorary family.  I have a year of love ahead of me. 

I have the tools to shake myself out of those grey clouds. 

That's evolution, baby.

Lover-ly

Happy Valentine's Day. 


I like this holiday.  I like it because you can do whatever you want with it.  There are no traditions that are set-in stone.  You can acknowledge the day, you can gripe about it and wear black, or you can wake up the next day and realize you didn't do much at all. 

We celebrated our anniversary last Monday.  Five years.  It was overshadowed with K starting his final semester and me taking that very-important-test.  Still, we celebrated, we loved.  And then we did it again on Saturday, because celebrating Valentine's Day on the 12th is just as cool.  Plus there's less of a crowd. 

K loaded up the byo bag and tucked in the four mini bottles of Rose Asti that we meant to drink Monday night. They were pink, and that's why I bought them, I'll own up to that.  We had a drink at the Firehouse, and then headed over for some Hibachi, Central Pennsylvania style.  No seriously, it's good stuff and I even trust their sushi. 

Hibachi is an interesting time.  Especially here, because so many different types of people can sit at the table with you, act normal, and make you look like the most refined, polite couple in the world.  So, we toasted-- to life, to love, to an early Valentine's Day, with hicks. 

I love love.  That's cliche, I know.  I love the pinks and reds that sprout this time of the year.  I love that everywhere you look, there's lace and paper valentines.  I love turning sandwiches into hearts and tucking in little love notes here and there.  I love that I can look at my phone and see seven different love texts from our closest friends. 

This is not the day to mourn.

Today is the day to love.  If you have someone to love, that's great.  Otherwise, love on you.  Love on what's around you.


Here's what I love right now:

I love how lately we've been lounging around.  Like, a lot.  But that's okay, because I totally have a dog that agrees with my lifestyle.  So much in fact, that she lounges anywhere she can. 

Like, for instance, right next to the bookshelf,  or more specifically, with her head on the bottom shelf. 

Which, you can see, is very dusty. 

I love that even though we still have about two months of winter left, we don't have to stay inside.  It's preferable, but we have options. 

Like loading up the car and heading to Little Buffalo, which is pretty great in the winter. Yes, almost a year to the date when we went last year, we headed back. We were prepared for snow and for the cold, but forgot about the possibility of ice.  

I really hate you ice, but I'm not going to dwell on that because this is a love post.  

  I love that I received flowers for my performance on Monday.  But, I didn't have a sunny space to put them in, and the tulips were starting to suffer.  And I'll be DAMNED if I let a tulip suffer this time of the year.  They're like endangered species.  So, I improvised with an old chair, and you know what? I loved how it looked.

I love that I can do whatever I want right now while I'm looking for a new job.  Like lounge and take snow adventures.  And literally rearrange flowers. Oh, and you know, plan a wedding.  So, I have decided to convert my desk from school mode to craft mode. 

Which just involves putting books away. 

Notice the empty packet of Pseudafed.  It's been that kind of winter.

Oh, and what is that I spy?  Why it's a wedding party letter, which I made last week.  A little Martha Stewart paper punch goes a long way.  It's also lacy which goes with this time of the year.



I could only do the corners though.  I'll practice.  And Nettie, if you're reading this and haven't received your letter, SURPRISE!!

I love having nothing to do, but making most of the day.  Make your bed, put the blinds up, put on some make up, and a sparkly headband.  You can get back in bed, but it at least looks like you did something with your one, wild and precious life. 

I love looking at Nordstrom.com and "shopping" for all the outfits that I want to wear this year.  A flowy maxi dress with flower-topped sandals for a July wedding shower.  Black heels and skinny black pants with a military-style jacket and soft blouse for the Thursday before the wedding.  A glittery gold dress with dark violet heels that K thinks is too flashy for the Rehearsal Dinner (a girl can still dream).  I don't hit purchase, but they can stay in the shopping cart. 

And I really love taking advantage of today by embarassing the dogs. Pouffy red scarves, tied appropriately for male and female pup.  It's every non-mother's dream.



Happy Love Day.

Virgin Harvest 2011

I don't know if you all knew this, but I was featured on a blog last year.  Yep.  I'm pretty famous ya know. 

Actually, I was mentioned in Nici Holt Cline's blog, when I signed up for her 2010 Virgin Harvest list.  It was a list of first-time gardeners, or pro gardeners who wanted to try somethin different.  I think I was like 74 on the list, and my goal was to "start a garden from scratch."

And that's exactly what I did. 

Sure, not everything worked out.  I highly underestimated the groundhogs, rabbits, and other wildlife that made a visit to my backyard veggie stand.  I planted peas very late, I didn't water the zucchini enough, and I didn't really do my homework. 

It was an impressive start. 


Here are my goals for this season:

1. Actually reading what each veggie needs rather than just sticking a seed into the ground and praying.  I don't know what my excuse was.  I have several books, and really the instructions are on the back of the packets.  Sigh.



2. Sow consistently throughout the year, so I can have my favorites last longer. Imagine fresh lettuce throughout the spring months.  Imagine. 


3. Grow out of the box. I don't want neatly organized rows of carrots and corn, I want a garden that evolves and gets a little out of control.  This is what I'm excited about.  I'm going to utilize every single single square inch of the backyard.  And parts of it that I'm pretty sure we don't own.  But, suck it condo association. 


4. Making sure that the neighbor groundhog does not get a single heirloom tomato. IT. IS. ON.


5. Growing so much that I beg friends and family to take produce from me. That sounds pretty pretentious, huh? 

My momma told me that she's giving us money for Valentine's day for a nice dinner and such.  Well, part of it is going to seeds. 

In this year's garden, I will be attempting to grow more heirloom tomatoes (red, yellow, and cherry), corn, carrots, beets (golden and red), cucumbers, green beans, peas (shelling and sugar snap), pumpkins, zucchini, squash, cippollini onions, bell peppers, sunflowers, morning glory, and nasturtiums.  Plus a variety of lettuces and herbs.  I don't want that much basil though, it was overwhelming. 


And, I'm even going to try to grow a watermelon.  I don't know if that's even possible in this climate, but you know what, I'm game. 

Anyway,  I encourage YOU to join Virgin Harvest 2011.  You won't regret it.  Visit Nici's site for more information. 

RN

Today was the day that I became a Registered Nurse.

Do you know what a pathetic fallacy is?  It's when the weather matches your mood.  Thunder and lightening when you're angry.  Pouring, gray rain when you're at a funeral of someone you love.  Snow and ice when you're frustrated. 

Sun when everything has turned out like you've always dreamed. 

It is a sunny, sunny day.  


I knew I wanted to be a nurse on September 11th, 2001.  I was in high school, sixteen years old.  I was still awkward and to some extent still that shy girl who was comfortable at home, by herself.  Then I saw the rubble, and the chaos, and the heartbreak, and I wanted to help.  Not donate blood or organize a fundraiser, or start a prayer group.  I wanted to physically be there.  Out there.  Pushing away stone and ash.  Kneeling down and looking into others eyes.  I wanted to put a hand on their shoulder and a hand in their hand.  I wanted to be a nurse. 

I'm not going to sit here and talk about how it was a long and hard road.  It wasn't really.  I'm 25 and I'm a RN.  I'm on the road that I was always suppose to be on.  Yesterday I took my test and it was over faster than I thought.  I was done an hour into it.  I stepped outside and didn't know what to do with myself. 

Then I realized,  I can do anything. 

The doors have opened.  And they are wide. 


I knew, and I didn't.  I knew though.  I didn't have the results, but I knew.  I had a feeling that my life had changed. 

Besides, the fortune cookie told me on Thursday, and you can't argue with that. 

Especially in this house.  We have a track record of fortune cookies actually, you know, predicting fortunes. 

So, Life.

Welcome. 


Yes, I have to find a job now, but in the meantime, I'm going to celebrate. 

K's card that he gave me after my very last LPN shift.

Nursing is an art:
and if it is to be made an art, it requires an exclusive devotion as hard a preparation,
as any painter's or sculptor's work;
for what is the having to do with dead canvas or dead marble,
compared with having to do with the living body,
the temple of God's spirit?

It is one of the Fine Arts: I had almost said, the finest of Fine Arts.

-Florence Nightingale

Snow and Ice

I'm now discovering that I've never really experienced a true, blue, Pennsylvania winter.  The one where it snows, and then it snows a little more, and then a lot more, and then an ice storm hits, sealing winter for what seems like forever.  I grew up with the notion of black ice.  The real reason that we had snow days when we only got an inch of snow.  Black ice was this mysterious, dangerous, sneaky son-of-a-bitch that would come out of nowhere, force your car off the road, and bring down power lines in it's path. 

Black ice ain't got nothin. 

Black ice is just stupid.  And really, an excuse for a snow day.  

See, ice here isn't shy.  It's like, bam, you see me? I'm going to be here for awhile.  It's like Platinum ice.  Shiny, hard to damage, and expensive.  It grabs hold of everything in its path.  Its like nothing I've ever seen.



Winter is starting to get to me.  Sunlight is scarce, which forces us inside.  I started to compensate by bundling up, buying puppy snow boots, and forcing myself outside.  Which was all well and good, until the ice came along.    


Snow:

Snow is gentle.  It's calming.  It falls slowly onto the earth, and hushes everything in its place.

Ice:

Ice is harsh.  Its pushy and noisy. 

Snow:

Ice:

Snow calls for adventures.  It says, hey put on your boots and your dog's boots and take a walk.  You'll burn more calories with me.

You'll see some really cool things.  You'll walk all over the place.

You'll even be so inspired, you'll build a snowman.  With a boutonniere.

And your muscles will hurt, but it will be a good hurt.  A kind of wow I really seized the day kinda ache. 



But Ice.   It obviously doesn't want you to frolic because it covers every inch of your path in it's frozeness.

Ice is like:  what are you doing outside?  Didn't I warn you with my shiny appearance? With my dagger-like icicles?

Ice creates a crunchy, shattered walk, that forces you to look down and watch where you're going, rather than what's around you.

Cause it's slippery as hell too. 

Sure it's pretty. 

But, it's miserable. 

It makes snow-loving puppies miserable. 

Translation: I hate ice.

It was funny to watch her slide all over the back yard. Honestly, like Bambi. 

 I had to intervene several times as she got to the edge of the ravine, as I had this premonition of her falling over and me going after her because and yelling for K to help us.  Like the pudgy neighbor boy who played in the ravine two winters ago, and was screaming for his mom to help him out because he couldn't move his pudgy legs fast enough.  Seriously, it was like two feet deep though.  Kids these days give up too easily.  And I'm not going to admit that we pulled the blinds up and laughed at him in our pajamas, to the point where we were tearing up because it was that funny. 


 Now don't get me wrong: I'm not a fan of snow either.  In fact, you may remember last February, when I freaked out with the amount of snow we got.  I couldn't open the door without it falling inside.  I like my snow on the melty side.  Slushy even. 

But, compared to ice, snow is a wonderful thing. 


For now, we'll continue to hibernate. 




I really miss Spring.