Summer's Start

We've had a solid month of Summer so far.  It's going by quickly which is good (go away humidity) and is bad (oh crap, wedding dress fittings).


Tomorrow, we're going to Ocean City, MD. 

I know you're jealous.  I won't rub it in while we're there. 


In the meantime, here's Summer so far.

That was in the firepit, not the grill

Dump City

This hasn't been the greatest of weeks. 

It also hasn't been the worse. 


I remember over five years ago sitting on the floor in my Seattle apartment, devastated because I went from being loved to being dumped.  Not only being dumped, but being "you were never important to me" type of dumped.  Not one of those amicable "this just isn't working" kind of dumps, but one of those "I need to erase you from my life now" dumps. 

And when you've gone through something like that, you learn very quickly to adapt, to survive, and to never let that happen again. 

Because, dammit, not only does it hurt like hell, but it causes you to start questioning yourself.


Never, ever question yourself.  Get yourself to the point where you trust your inner person more than anything. 


So, I cried for a little while, and then I gathered everything I had of his and threw it in the dumpster outside my Seattle apartment.  I knew that I could do some desperate things in that hour, but climbing in the green dumpster to grab some crappy memento from our relationship was not one of them. 



Sometimes, you have to just let go of things--a boy, a friend, a dream that isn't working out the way you thought--and start completely over.  Yes, you'll be hurting and you'll try to go back, but you'll find something better if you're patient.

And, you'll learn something about yourself in the process. 

Like I said, this week was crappy.  Not as crappy as the dumpster day, but that's because I'm a little hardened now.   A little more reserved.  And, also a little content because he has a beard and is fat now. 

Still, I mourned.  Like you do in the best break-ups, I removed old pictures and put up new ones.  I sat in my pajamas and ate pizza rolls on the couch, while watching girly movies, crying to myself, "Why can't they be like those girlfriends?" and threw away those stupid mementos that don't have meaning anymore. 


Then comes the part where you're rejuvenated and remember who you were before.  Usually, you get a cute new haircut, but I'm getting married soon and don't want to regret bangs.  So, instead I bought a Beyonce album and cleaned the basement, pretending I was really fierce and bootylicious. Well, not pretending. 


And then, this happens.

Even during the crappy weeks, I am reminded that I am loved 3000 miles away.  I have friends who love me out of the blue for no reason.  Instead of crying on the couch and having a stomach ache from too many pizza rolls, I will snack on Swedish fish and pour over a book about fly fishing.  Because I don't need to waste my time on people who didn't even know I played tennis or the piano (!!!!).  I'll spend my time with people who know me without me having to remind them.

Applewood BBQ smoker chips? Mad Men literature?  Pink crinkle paper? Wrapping paper with winking owls? Blocks of paper with words that I needed to be reminded of? Magazines of the city that I left my heart in?  

How did you know so well? 



Thank you for reading between the lines Koviaks. 



So, I'm beyond grieving.  I'm onto celebrating again.  I might even throw some pink crinkle paper in the air and do a happy dance while I practice my wind-up with my pretend fishing rod. 


Besides, I was able to finish the photo wall, so there's that.  

Never fight with idiots. They'll defeat you by bringing you down to their level, and beating you with experience. --Dad

The Art of Living

I've been out-of-sorts lately. 

There have been a lot of times in the last couple of weeks, when I've starred into a starry sky and thought, "I am not living right now."

Its my own fault, I'll admit that.  I work long hours and still haven't gotten the hang of that whole balance thing.  Or, maybe I don't speak up for myself enough. That's always been a problem for me, I'll admit that too. 

This feeling was so intense on Thursday night.  I was in bed, checking email, when I heard the first crashes of thunder outside.  And then the rain came.  Forcefully, violently almost.  I jumped out of bed and flew out the door.  I had to let the rain touch my face.  I had to feel it soak in my hair.  The dog thought I was nuts, but I had to do something courageous and extraordinary.  And it felt that way.  It felt like I was back in Washington, where we believe you should ditch the umbrella on drizzling days, because its good for your skin.  Its good for my soul too.   A familiar feeling.  Back to reality almost.  If you don't take advantage of what's in front of you, then life will always be the same. 



I have one job though and that is to live.  It doesn' t matter what I do at work or who I have in my life, but it does matter that I take every opportunity I can to live my life to its potential.  That's a hard concept for some.  Success for others may be reflected in the kind of job they have, or how much money they appear to have, or what their house looks like.  My personal standard is based on how much nectar I suck out of the day.  Did I read about something important today? Did I close my eyes and let sweet music saturate into my soul?  Did I roll on the floor and show my dog that I love her?  Did I laugh hysterically because a resident told me a funny story on accident? Did I snuggle up in bed with my love and dream big dreams? Did I make a decision today that would make me a better woman, a better wife, a better nurse, a better daughter, a better sister, a better mother?  Did I stop what I was doing and burst out the door so that I would not miss a chance at something great?

This has been a difficult year.  There has been a lot of fighting swirling around us. I think people are trying to find their place in this world, let alone our lives.  Some people make the cut, some people don't, and some we will come back to.  I am not a bad person.  I am not someone who stomps her feet and demands respect.  I demand respect by giving respect.  I hate the conflict because it leads us off the course. 

The Art of Living has nothing to do with the art of fighting.  They don't go together.  The Art of Living relies on inner peace.  Inner peace is derived from self-discovery.  And I'll be damned if I lose the self-discovery part of myself right now.  Too many nights have I spent on the kitchen floor sobbing because I can't feel a damn thing.  Too many times have I stopped doing the things that I loved because I didn't recognize myself anymore.  Too many times have I wasted time because I was worried about other people.

I have love. 

I have friends.

I have family.

I have passions.

I have goals.

I have ambitions.

I have support.

I have moments that are waiting for me.


And to those who I've fought with this year, I am sorry.  But, I know that it was necessary for the both of us. 

Katie, I know that you are happier now.  I was worried about you and I didn't mean for it to end the way it did. But, it happened that way, and that's what we have to live with.  I know we out-grew our friendship, but I know we had a good one for awhile.  But, I know that you are happy.

Michael, I just sent you a text apologizing and wanting to start over. It's what I needed to do.  We had to say things to each other.  We have been angry about a lot of things.  We both had to grow up a bit more.  But, I'm not going to be mad anymore.

Nettie, I know what life was without you, and I hated it.  I hated that we couldn't communicate.  I hated that I wasn't there for you when you needed me.  I hated that I didn't know how to tell you how much I appreciate you.  Last year we were still in our teenage friendship, and we came into adulthood on a rainy October night at the Boat Shed.   And without that fight, I don't think we would have been this strong. 

Liz and Theresa, you conclude my year of fighting.  You are the climax of that chapter in my life, and now I chose to descend into a life worth living. 


I am no longer angry.  I am no longer going to hold myself back.  Whoever wants to come with me, then jump on because this train is one-way baby. 

All I want for my one wild, precious life is to be free.  Free from torment, free from restrictions, free from judgments, free from threats, free from gossip, free from neglect.  I want a life spent in fleece jackets, sitting in the backyard listening to coyotes howl while the fire pit whips and hisses blue and orange flames.  I want a life spent jumping into lakes with clothes on.  I want a life spent throwing giggling children in the air and watching them cling to their grandfathers neck.  I want a life waking up early in white linens to orange and pink sun.  I want a life with snoring dogs laying at my feet.  I want a life when we toasts others accomplishments without ashtrays laying around, but with fresh tomatoes and goat cheese, crusty bread, olive oil, and basil, under glowing gazebo lights. 

I am going to dance with my husband at my wedding and have no regrets. We will be surrounded by people who truly love us.  It may in fact, just be flawless.

I am going to show people that I love them, not just say it like a parrot. 

I am going to treat my body like a temple, so that it can grow healthy, chubby babies, and carry me through the mountains of my home. 

I am going to develop friendships with people who will be more like me.  People who are dorky like me, who own several Nalgene bottles like I do, who want to save up for a kayak, who have always wanted to be in a book club, or who have always thought it would be cool to wear a cashmere scarf and see a French movie.

I am going to love people not based on blood.  My family is not limited to 4 or 5 people, but extends to individuals who have slept in Detroit, who live in Australia, who as I write have a table set-up in their house with the napkins and centerpieces for shower #2.

I am going to sing, I am going to dance, and I am going to praise everyday.  Because that's what matters in life.

I am going to open a bottle of wine and two of our new glasses tonight, sit under the stars with my truest love and think, "Now, I am living." 

Dear Tommy and Nettie,

That's a heart pond. Just for you guys.



What can I say? I'm incredibly proud of you two.

I'm proud that you came out and showed us what you've got.

I'm proud that you represented Washington better than, well, me.

I'm proud that you were able to eat all of that food, Tommy. It was entertaining to watch.

I'm proud that you stayed up the longest on Saturday, Nettie. You're a rockstar. (And a sexy bitch for life!)

I'm proud that you're my friends. My friends. 


You went through a lot this weekend.  A red-eye out, a delayed flight, then a missed flight. Then a night spent in Detroit. Sigh, you know its love when people spend the night in Detroit for you. Oh, and you spend two hours sitting on the turnpike too. 

I learned this weekend just how much we have in common.  I remembered why I talk the way I talk.  I know that you guys mesh with us pretty perfectly.  We should do dinner and Catchphrase again.  That was a good night.  You made everything fun this weekend, even the turnpike part.  And, thanks for the Cinnabon.


We miss you guys.

We miss Washington more now because you guys remind us of home.

We'll be back soon.




For good.




Love,

C & K

Countdown to PA: Day Three--Lilly

I know this is a cop out, but I just cut and marinated 48 pieces of chicken, roasted walnuts for salad, and started laundry, so I'm tired. 

Lilly can't wait until Friday. Can't you tell?

Honestly, she's a good reason to come to PA. She's snugly, she's playful, she enjoys life. 

And peas.  Did I mention that?  That's new.

The peas are all gone.

That's an action shot. 


She does have her downfalls.  She farts a lot.  It's pretty deadly. 

But, she's cute, so that makes up for it. Sometimes.



That's all I got. I'll make up for it tomorrow.

Countdown to PA: Day Two--Storms

I'm not going to lie.


It's going to be hot. 


It's going to be humid.


You're going to think, "Why.....why do people live here?"


That's what I think every Summer.  People choose to live in this. 


I don't get it either. 


It won't be so bad for me, because, sadly, I'm use to it.


But, you won't have time to get use to it, so its probably going to be miserable.






However, hot days are necessary if you are going to have my favorite part of Summers here.

Storms.


They happen very rarely in Seattle, which is ironic, isn't it?  I mean, aren't we known for our rain? Uh huh, maybe we should rethink that. 


The storms come without warning, even though we know we can count on them after a blistering day.  One minute, the air is still and sticky, and then it starts swirling and these ominous grey clouds come rolling in.  We rush inside, even though I prefer chasing them a little bit by staying outside in the swirly air.


Then, it starts pouring.  The type of rain that I had never ever seen before.  One year, I made the mistake of running from my car to a building in the rain.  By the time I took the 15 seconds to make that run, my scrubs were soaked.  I had to spend 15 minutes in the laundry room in my underwear and bra while I waited on the dryer.  So, I've learned.

But, that isn't the point. 

The point is, its quite a sight.  The outside is storming, but the inside is hushed.  I wrote a lot about the rain last Summer because it slowed things down.  And cooled things down. 

They don't last long.  We can resume any party that it may interrupt. 

I really hope we have a storm this weekend. The way the air changes, the size of the rain drops, the crashing thunder and bright lightening--it is quite a sight to see.

Countdown to PA: Day One--Fireflies

Oh the exotic Firefly.  Around here, you are also called Lightning bugs which I think ridiculous.  You are not lightning bugs.  You are lazy little bugs, which every so often glitter your green butts.  You are hard to capture on my camera.  Therefore, I will not post a picture of you tonight. 


Instead, readers will have to wait and see them for themselves.


Seriously, I love fireflies.  They're pretty magical.  They're very Summer. 

The other day, I literally gasped out loud because I saw the first one this season.  It was drunkenly swinging across the grass, glowing sporadically all by its firefly self. 

That's how fireflies come these days, mostly by themselves. Read that line anyway you want, I give you permission. 



Around here, baby boomers tell stories of how the streets were lit with the little buggers.  They were everywhere.  They were easy to catch.  They were easy to catch and squish and then yell at your friends, "hey, look! My fingers are glowing!". 

But now, in our conservationist culture, we refrain from squishing fireflies.  Instead, we sit back and watch them float. 


You can't find fireflies in Seattle.  They don't float that far. 


I bet you can't wait to see them.  We can't wait either. 

The Start of Wedding Season

There's something in the air tonight.  It wasn't in the air earlier today, but its here now.

Maybe its because I'm typing this in my new Kate Spade shoes.  I bought them yesterday, along with a very pink dress, for my first wedding shower.  And, when I say first, I really do mean first.  Not only is it the first one that's being held for our wedding, but its the first I've ever been to. 

Does that mean that I need more friends? 

At least I have cute shoes. 

But, seriously, I feel it.  I've been getting little glimpses here and there.  In a song that we know we'll dance to in four months.  Or a coral lip gloss that I felt internally I would be wearing in four months.  To the curls that fell on my back this evening, which caused a premonition of curls falling on my back, in, yes four months. 

Its coming. 


This week we kick off the festivities big time.  Mom, Nettie, and Tommy are flying out and we'll load them up in the car and drive to Pittsburgh.  Almost everyone will be together, and I think that will be a pretty spectacular sight. 

I would post a picture of my shoes, but I want them to shine on Saturday. 



Four months.  The amount of time that feels so far away, but very very soon. 

The air is starting to thicken.  Its hot and humid outside.  The days are longer.  There's an excitement in the night. Even though I know that three people will not be excited about the humidity,  I actually am.  Its a reminder to me that its coming and I better soak it all in.  Soon, the days will be cool, then cold, and this will be a memory.  They're already starting to advertise for Fall shows. 

I don't usually get this excited about Summer, but this Summer will be so different than the rest.  It will be a steady growth of joy.  As the shower gifts arrive and we get a glimpse of what our new life will be, I will soak it in. 

Too many times do we get wrapped up in the future, and forget to slow down and enjoy it as it is. 

Not me, I vow to enjoy it all. 

Starting with this week. 

I am so grateful of our family and friends and what they've done for us.  As I write this, my mom is writing down names and addresses of people she will meet for the first time on Saturday.  Addressing over a hundred invitation and placing Teton stamps on each envelope.  I am grateful.

On Thursday, Nettie and Tommy will board a plane and fly across the country, then get in a car and drive across the state.  For us.  I am grateful.


So, in their honor, I will write every night until they're here.  I will introduce this area to them little by little and try to get them more excited. And, maybe take their minds off of the humidity.


Starting tomorrow, Count Down to PA will begin.



It's here. We have four months, but its here.  It begins this week, I can feel it. 

Excuse me while I do a happy dance in the basement with my most beautiful shoes. 

I Just Want to Blog

I was thinking about putting up a sign on here that said, "Out of the blogosphere.  Will be back soon. As soon as life balances out. Peace".  But, part of me won't give up on the thought that I can successfully document my life at least once a week.  Even though I have a new job and I'm planning a wedding (well, it's planned already, we just gotta get there), I have to find time for this. 

Even if the blog turns into "all-I'm-going-to-talk-about-is-my-dog-cause-she's-so-cute", that's fine with me.  Because at least it's something.  Because at least I'll be able to look back on the last months a year or so from now, when everything is different, and there's a new hectic.  I'll be able to look back, and think, "yeah, that was a cute dog" and "I'm glad I wrote something down."  It won't be lost in the fire. 

I frustrate myself with the compulsion that I have to write really well.  It's frustrating because I don't want this to be a blog where I talk about what I did on Monday, and then what I did for lunch the next day.  I want quality.  I want it to be a place where I can rediscover things about myself, while finding out new things along the way.  But, at the same time, I need to settle and let it just be what it becomes. 

Somedays I'll write about the dog.  Or the garden and how even though I'm a Director of Clinical blah blah blah at work, I'm really the most proud that I was able to grow peas.  Or, I'll write about the clouds in PA and how they are really amazing.  And that's fine.  Because I know there will also be days when I write about depression, or throw my heart on this blog and proudly speak about the fine people in my life. 

Balance.  That's my June goal.  It's vague, yes.  It's hard to measure.  But, that's my goal. 


Balance.

We hoped to balance April's showers with, well you know, but May turned out to be very rainy as well.  And, I don't want to hear anymore Seattle jokes, okay?  Still, what I like about summer here is the balance between the hot, sticky days and the cool, dark storms that come in the evenings.  I experienced my first tornado watch last week. 

I'm not going to lie, I was sc'urd.


Balance.

Last weekend, we balanced family time and obligations, with private time and our own traditions. 


We travelled to Pittsburgh for a Memorial Day party and a 90th birthday.  We stayed up until the wee hours with Randy, Theresa, Liz, and Brian, and I discovered that I am very good at flip cup.  I orchestrated a sporadic firework shows that I was sure my dad would have been proud of.  We laughed at Randy when he put Neil Diamond on.  We didn't take any pictures because we were too damn busy making memories. 

We showed how professional we really are by waking up early and setting up for K's grandma's birthday party. She's rather awful, and it's no secret that we don't get along, but I helped because I'm there for him.  Plus, I had a cute dress.

When it was over, we threw everything we could in the car, and went home. 

For the last two years, K and I have enjoyed the Memorial Day parade in the next town over.  Lilly's first parade was last year, but my camera wasn't charged so there were no pictures.

We love this parade.  We were tired from the weekend, but got our butts out of bed.  We were actually a half an hour early too, by mistake.  The last two years we sat in front of a bridal shop, on their side walk.  It moved over the year, and I actually bought my wedding dress at their new location.  Now, the side walk belongs to some holistic massage place, but the steps and the grassy area next to the steps remained unchanged.

The parade is mostly Zembos.  There's only one high school band and they don't start playing until they pass our section.  The parade stops for 10 minutes in the middle so that the boyscouts can join because they can't walk as far.  Lilly barks at the horses.  We know no one.  Half the time the parade people don't even wave.

But, it's ours.

Like last year, Lilly got a patriotic bo-bo.  Which, is already dead, but that is not the point.

It's our thing.  We probably won't invite you to join us.  Don't take it personally. It's a K and C thing, and Lilly. 

Besides, I don't want you to see me tear-up when the soldiers walk by.  Every year.

Balance.

I didn't think the weekends would be enough for me, but they have become that.  We balance our days off together with chores and then things like farmers markets, caprese paninis for lunch, a backyard filled with colored lights, and sleeping in with warm puppies.

We have come to the conclusion that we are, infact, yuppies.  We like banana pancakes on Saturdays and filling up our Williams Sonoma market totes with fresh basil and spring onions.  We prefer wine on the back patio over a 2 AM last call (well, K still likes that every once and awhile).  We read in bed.  We talk about staying in Friday nights and watching a documentary about Yellowstone.  We are yuppies.

And, its fabulous.

So, I may only have two days off now, but I think we're starting to get the hang of it, by defining what's important. 




I have figured out the weekends, but I struggle with the week.  I come home exhausted and then I kick myself for sitting around in the evenings.

I'm still learning.  I'm still searching for the balance during the week, when it matters most.  

But, at least I wrote this all down.  That really helps.


Tomorrow, I'm waking up an hour early so that I can run across the field with Lilly.  I think, if I seize the day as early as I can, then things will fall into place.






Really though, my dog is pretty cute.