I've Been There.

This one's a little intense.

Little known fact that I'm about to share with you guys.. and a note that I'm just.. putting out in the universe, so to speak, for the girl who reminded me this morning of the places I've been and the places I won't be returning to.

Dear Sara*
*Yes, I changed her name.

You served me coffee earlier this morning, at a place I visit nearly every morning for the same reason: coffee. You were friendly, polite and you smiled. At face value, it was as mundane an interaction as could be for a morning in line for coffee. But here's the thing: Your smile looked tired. Beyond that, you had two very clear, very dark bruises beneath each of your eyes.

Sara, for all I know, those could very well have come from softball. You could've been in a bad car accident recently, and the glasses you wear could've been forced into your face. I have no idea, and while I hope to assume the best in other humans, the reality is often the opposite. So I say this to you: If those bruises came from the hands of another human, well.. know this:

I have been there. I have seen knuckles coming at my face, and I've felt them make contact. I've been shoved. I've been kicked. I've had my back against the railing of a 4th story fire escape, wondering if I'd be pushed over it.  Fortunately, that was the one and the only time that I ever actually thought it might be over. But it wasn't. I hit rock bottom that day, and realized that everything I'd dealt with: every hurtful word, every scratch and bruise, all the money I invested into makeup at the last minute to cover up those scratches. Every time I blamed myself for not being the right type of person to someone who, in the reality of it, really wasn't even worthy of me on my worst day.

Sara, if you feel like that's a self-righteous way to feel, or an entitled thing to say... you're right, it certainly does feel like that when you're living in that moment. It does feel like perhaps you're being selfish, or unappreciative. It feels uncertain, and therefore an even scarier prospect to explore than staying right where you are. 

But I can also say this: That doesn't mean it's wrong. 

In fact, it's very much the opposite. You've probably been told by people who know you far better than me that it's time to get out of that. He doesn't deserve you. You deserve better. You should walk away. A thousand other solicited and unsolicited bits of advice have likely been handed to you, but maybe nothing more than that, because that would take someone out of their safe zone. 

You should know something: My advice to you means nothing, because well, you don't know me. What I can tell you with absolute truth though, is that you are beautiful. You are alive (and should have a vested interest in keeping it that way!), and you are strong. You are stronger than any and all of this, and while you might not see it in this moment, you really are capable of all the things you've denied yourself for however long it's been. 

Sara, I'll be back to see you probably tomorrow sometime, both because coffee is part of my morning routine, but also because I want you to know that I am here (because I fought for it), and I want to help you. I won't push, but please know that in meantime, I'm praying for you - that if it's not me you choose to confide in, that at least it's someone who is truly willing to help you remember just how worth it you are. 

It's a beautiful day, blogbots - take time today to encourage someone around you - you never know - you could be changing someone's life! 

Peace, Love & Praise ♥

xo | cmd

Father's Day: A Letter to My Dad

I felt this was warranting a 2nd entry for today, because it's Father's Day and these two men deserve so much more than a single blog entry, let alone a shared one! 

Dear Dad, 

To the man who raised an adopted child willingly, whole-heartedly and eagerly. Who put in long hours at the office, traveled globally for work and ceaselessly fought to provide for his family in whatever way was necessary: I may not have seen it then, but as a parent now - as an adult now, I see the raw energy that it takes day.. after day.. after day.. to grin and bear it when it seems sometimes like you might break. You did that for me, for Mom, for our family and because you are a true man of your word and commitment to put God and family first. 

Growing up, you have loved me at my very worst, praised me at my best, and conditioned me along the way in between. You were present, involved, candid. You were my father before you were ever my friend, and no matter how much I pushed back, you never faltered, and proved to me what it meant to have a real backbone. You taught me boundaries, and what I deserved to seek for myself. You showed me what I'm worth, but instilled in me the humility that would ward off any false sense of entitlement. You demonstrated work ethic, and its rewards. I saw in you a solid resolve to focus on the big picture. 

You [& Mom] groomed me to think on my feet, be open but aware and conscious of the world around me. You prayed hard that the seeds of discernment, humility and graciousness you both worked to plant would take firm roots in my heart and show their fruits through my life choices. You taught me to drive, and undoubtedly prayed feverishly that I would return unscathed, every time I left the house in your car. You dealt with insurance when I crashed into things. You were very open about consequences, and enforced them consistently. Little by little, you cut off my resources, until the point at which I was ready enough to embark onto the blank canvas that would become my own path. I hated those Franklin Covey seminars when I was 15; I still don't like them, but at least now I appreciate having had them. ;). 

I existed nervously through the time you had Viral Meningitis. Through your double bypass heart surgery. Through the loss of your career; I watched you not only recover from that friend/coworker's selfish acts of secret betrayal, but come to later forgive him without stipulation. You denied yourself the satisfaction of reveling in the karma that came back to him, but instead showed him kindness, a firm handshake and that smile that we know means you are speaking from your heart. You forgave, and you moved on. You endured in ways that some people my age and older cannot. You were honest and open about your emotions. You rarely shed tears, but I remember clearly you crying when necessary and assuring me that true, unmatched strength comes with transparency and the ability to feel. When my Grammy - your mom - passed, you managed to pick 20-year-old me up from my brokenness in spite of just having said goodbye to your mother. You allowed me to grieve when I experienced loss, whether it was an audition, a pet, or one of our friends or family members. You shaded me from things I didn't need to see, yet didn't shield me from the realities of human nature and what we were capable of afflicting on other people, and vice versa. I learned to cope, negotiate, reason with and walk away from people when the time came, because of you.

You were there the day Sydni was born. You were the first man to hold her. The first member of our family that she met. She has been glued to you since then, and I will always say that is why. There is a bond between you and her that is unique; in all of the closeness you and I have, I still think there is a special depth to your bond with Sydni that will only be yours. I love that. You are a mentor, role model and friend to her. You are her Pappy. You are the one she runs to first for hugs. It's your lap that she finds when you're here, at the end of the night and she needs a safe, comfortable place to read stories, tell silly jokes, play Go Fish, or fall asleep. You encourage me to pursue my best self each day, for her sake. You've become a third father figure to Rob, and provide him added courage to do the same, for Sydni and for the children he and I hope to have in the future. 

And you've shown me how to fight for my relationships, specifically my marriage. Beyond that, you have shown me the mercies of a true father: the kind that are not just sympathy, but of stern words as well, reminding me that in relational failure, the fault in some cases is shared. As I grew into my adult life, you and Mom have been open about your insecurities, your successes and the work you both have put into each other. I wouldn't even fill a handful of fingers counting the times I remember seeing you argue in front of me, but I remember hearing you both apologize to each other. You never kept score, and you made sure that I felt secure, always. 

Dad, you're not a perfect person, and you've been very transparent about that. I love you even more deeply for your ability to recognize it and not project onto me the ways in which you may have failed in the past. You've gifted me the confidence to pursue my heart's desires, love freely and loyally, approach parenthood with the understanding that I'll never be perfect at this either... and that's okay. 

I'm thankful for that, and for you, every day, but today just happens to be a good one to express it openly. There's so much I haven't said here, but the point remains that you are the foundation of who I am, and I wouldn't be where I am without you. Sydni would be a different person, I'm sure, without your influence, and as you were designed by God to be Mom's perfectly-imperfect mate, I know she appreciates you for who and what you are, too. 

I love you, Dad - today is for the men like you. Cheers ♥♥

xo | cmd

Letters To Elsa

So, I found this posted online a few days back:

well all right then? 

I debated over whether or not to try this with Sydni; she has an incredible memory, and if this didn't work, I'd be left feeding her some story about how it got lost in the mail or something to that effect. I dug a little into Google and found several user-submitted photos of people who've taken advantage of this, and decided we'd go ahead and shoot for it. If it doesn't work, well.. we'll cross that bridge when it gets here.

love. love love love her. 

There ya have it folks. We've written Queen Elsa, and I'll let you know if/when we hear anything back. Fortunately, Sydni's caught up with the Wii and hasn't asked anything else about the letter, so my best guess [and small hope] is that she'll put this on the back burner until something comes back in the mail for her.

I'll keep ya posted, parents! In the meantime, I'm going to go reflect on the fact that I just stamped an envelope addressed to Queen Elsa of Arendelle. Yeah. That happened. #parenthood.

G'Nite!

xo | cmd

Then & Now : Memoirs to Me

I've been a prolific journaler [shh.. I know] for as long as I can remember; my mom has often shared with me the many manuscripts arranging my many legitimate struggles...

... at like, age five. What can I say? Life was pretty rough, when

"... I and can't have and the and turkoys [turquoise] doll and because Santa got and me the purple one and for Christmas." 

My love of conjunctions started early on, an indication of my aptitude development.

Anyway, I read yesterday THIS, authored by none other than my fellow star-chaser Marianne. She raised several interesting points just by penning this thing to her future self, something I coincidentally also did in 2004. I committed last night to unearthing some of those words, penned inevitably during a phase of angsty, pre-twenties self-discovery. And loathing. And soul-searching. And so on... and so on.

ohhhhhhh, the aaaaaangst.... 

Uh-huh. :|

So here's what I did: I went and in fact unearthed that duct tape-covered composition book [complete with some tattooed Dashboard Confessional lyrics, for effect #emoproblems...], which contained everything from my grocery lists [?], to random and elicited observations re: my little world of college things, and stickers, tickets & other miscellaneous swag from all the cutting-edge things/places I was going. In hindsight, I was just collecting for some imaginary scrapbook that materialized in the form of a misshapen novel.. with bumper stickers.

Folks, I naturally preferred hard-copy over e-filing in 2004, and from the looks of this, I was holed up in a corner of the 13th floor [the 'Quiet Floor' reserved for the most studious dormers, for those of you who remember Calhoun Hall].  Secluded in the vacant, dimly-lit corner of a study hall, silent but in that very way, so. EMOTIONALLY CHAOTIC... If that doesn't paint the angst for you, well..... idk.

So here's an excerpt from 2004. I wasn't much of an Headline gal in the early 2000's, so there was no other title to this other than the date:

March 10, 2004
[a Wednesday]

I swear to God I will NOT be here in 10 years. There's no way in hell that I'll feel like this in 10 years. There's no way in hell that this shit will still be getting the best of me in 10 years. I mean it. 

[Okay, as a prelude to this: 2004 was my sophomore year of college, and a/the point of my life where I, for lack of better explanation, abandoned a lot of what I stood for, including {apparently} my manners, class, faith, dignity and a bunch of other relatively essential qualities. Just an FYI; carry on....]

I made a list of New Year's Resolutions 2 months ago and haven't kept more than 2 of them. HELL YEAH! Great start, right? I thought I would be advantageous this year and reinvent the wheel, but who am I kidding? I can't even find common ground with half the people around me. 

I wonder a LOT about where I'll be in 10 years. If I'll be in this city. This state. This country. If I'll still have the same friends. At this rate, I almost HOPE I don't. That's sad. I need people who I can relate to, for REAL reasons. Not because we're both Filipino. Or because we're in the same classes all morning for 3 days a week. Or because we both play soccer. Or because we live in the same dorm. Or because we're both eating food at the same place at the same time. THESE are why I'm friends with over half of my friends... and THAT sucks. I miss my REAL friends [from my hometown; remember I'm only a year into this whole living-away-from-home thing] and know that I'm just going through the motions here. God I'm lame. 

I'm dating a guy who's clingy, not supportive and stupidly obsessed with his hair. Call me shallow, but if you can't get your shit together for the day JUST because your hair isn't cooperating? Grow a pair. He has an intellectual brain though, and for some reason I can't seem to part with it. I just wish he was more..... I dunno, grounded.

I flopped on the new year's resolutions, so I wonder if by the time I'm almost 30 in ten years, maybe I'll get it together? 

Goals: 10 years out [in no particular order]: 
* Graduate college
* Get a job. A real job. 
* Visit another country. Maybe 2. 
* Find real friends. Or stay socially-removed until I'm ready to figure out what that means. 
* STOP letting people down. 
* Get a tattoo. 
* Think about marriage when dating. Not immediately, but if he even has potential. Otherwise don't waste your time. 
* Get home more often. 
* Repair broken relationships. 
* Run more. Remember how soccer was the highlight of your life now... do NOT let it control your life in 10 years. 
* Live somewhere other than Cincinnati. Or even Ohio. 
* Stop procrastinating on EVERYthing you do. And when you decide TO do something, don't push yourself so hard that you exhaust everything you have: time, social life, money, ambitions. 
* Remember how you felt TODAY: Confused about what you actually want out of life. Broken because you've relied on yourself and not on God for the things you need, even though you know better. You're lonely, confused, hurt and broken by the damage of bad friendships and superficial relationships. You're not excited to see what the future holds - honestly, you're afraid of it and that's not what should be happening. You don't EVER want to be in this place, ever again. 

Get a hold of yokurself, Corin. You're better than this. 

*******

I condensed that down from the near 4 comp pages it consumed when I originally wrote it, but in reading it, the feelings came back. The intensity of that moment feels vague now, but not the sense of confusion and helplessness. The dark place they usher in was a place I revisited just a few short years back, and I found my way out then, too, but with a strength I didn't know I even had. 

I've thought it appropriate for a while now to extend some sort of homage to my former self, and in the process perhaps a couple of notes for the future me. Thanks again for the inspiration, Mare! 

To Corin, 2004: 

First things first, it gets better. It gets bad again here and there, but the beauty outweighs the pain tenfold. You finished college, and you have that job that you truly love. You have a small but irreplaceable network of true friends on whom you can rely when you're doing well and when you aren't. Out of an incredibly un-ideal situation came the most beautiful child you've ever known; she is a reflection of the love you want to show the world, and continues to impress you every day. She calls you mama and there's not a moment of the struggle you would trade to have her changing your world every day. You have two tattoos, one of which you got on a random outing with the girl who inspired this time-traveling letter. You've lived in a couple different states, been to a couple other countries and are on the home stretch of preparation for a missions trip to Panama. You're engaged to a guy who makes you crazy, but in the ways you laugh about, not the ones on which a relationship actually hinges. He brought you out of a place void of emotions altogether, let alone happiness. He is patient, funny and supportive of your dreams, goals and ambitions. You are still flighty when it comes to certain grown-up things: taxes, health insurance, financial portfolios. < You will probably never fully comprehend the logistics of those things, but you're doing better. You've learned to finally start speaking up when you're dissatisfied with something, instead of bottling it to the point of combustion like you did for the first 25ish years. You're no expert, but you're getting better. You still procrastinate on small things, and when you invest yourself wholly into something, you still haven't mastered the art of pacing yourself. You're damaged, imperfect and a constant work in progress, but know this: You are happy. You are growing. You are loved.

And Corin, 2025: 

That was twenty years ago now that you took your duct taped journal and stowed away in the corner of a dormitory, ridden with confusion, loneliness and anxiety. It was thirteen years ago that you relapsed into that dark place, and vowed to never repeat it ever again. You lost parts of yourself that you won't ever get back, but in the process learned more about your limits, recognized your strengths and weaknesses, and acknowledged that you can't do this on your own - and that you don't need to. You don't need to prove that to anyone, regardless of what you always thought. You've redefined real strength as pursuing your faith and letting go of toxic things and people. That's important, so don't forget that, okay? 

Your daughter is 15, which I can guess now has its own set of stresses and joyous moments alike. You're married to the man whose engagement ring you're wearing now in 2015, and continuing to grown and learn together with him just as you are now. I'm going to guess we've since added a few mini's to the family; I'm excited for us to look back on this moment now wondering what he, she or they will be like. 

Twenty years ago, you were a hot mess, going through your emo everything stage. You thought you could outsmart the system of life, but weren't smart enough to see the depths of your insecurities and inexperience. You fought back against wiser peers and council who tried to help you, because quite frankly, you weren't ready to face the reality that vulnerability isn't inherently evil. Thirteen years ago, you fought tooth and nail for a failing marriage before you were able to level with the fact that the only way your daughter had a fighting chance of life in a happy household, was to divide yours and pray that two separate but functional households would bloom out of its ashes.

You did that thing where you shut down emotionally, first to the world, then to those closest to you, and then to yourself. You were a drone for months, surviving on faith and desperate hopes that you were right. You struggled like most wouldn't believe with the guilt of divorce, wrestled with how that conflicted with your core beliefs and waited almost two years after your divorce to finally start forgiving yourself for the ways in which you failed and disappointed yourself and those involved. You became intentional about your time, and even more selective about who would be permitted to get close. You were scared of hurting them in the long run, but learned over time that that would only happen if YOU give permission and YOU choose to let little things turn into big things. You are slowly earning your bachelors degree in Letting Things Go, and are making great strides in the section about harboring bitterness, resentment and pride.

In 2015, you're a work in progress. This is your first full year of your 30's, and you are happy.
You still hate tomatoes and pickles, but have managed to eat bananas without wanting to vomit. You don't smoke, and as far as drinking goes, you officially have next to zero tolerance, which isn't actually a bad thing. You don't work out as much as you should, but you're bent on reverting back to old habits in that regard, which include committing to a half marathon before the year is over. You are head over heels - often literally - with yoga, and have disproved every single one of your college-conceived notions of its principles. Your parents are visibly aging, but still as vivacious and fun as ever. Sydni is the light of their lives and she knows it. You're ready for the future, and are on the hunt for ways to ensure that it's a culmination of your investments now. You wish you could still eat whatever you wanted, but your body isn't going to let that happen.

You're only an adult based on the time you've spent on the earth; your heart is still young. You are aware the heartache and disappointment are inevitable, but you are more secure with your abilities and limits in coping than ever before. You have an acute sense of detection for and equally sensitive disdain for the artificial - things, people and situations and are no longer hesitant to eliminate them from your life.

You're not the perfect human, and you will never be perfect in the eyes of every beholder. But, here's one thing that you KNOW to be truth [& then some] as you walk into 2015:

#truth!

Love your life at 40, because 30's lookin' like it's gonna be tough to beat.

xo | cmd

Parks & Family & Forts & HOMEWORK.

This was a full circle kind of day. We started by waking up to this:

hahah.. ok? 

^ Apparently Stella wasn't cutting it for a stuffed animal... or 15. She's too much :)

The day went on and when I picked up my mini from Mindi's, we made flash plans to stop by the park.

♥

such a rebel.. 

she's officially too tall to walk under this without bent knees! 

Sydni took her first selfie with an exposed selfie arm tonight..

hahah ♥♥

Rob showed up for the last half hour or so before it started raining. Notes I made from tonight? Swinging selfies are difficult, especially when you're trying to capture three people swinging at separate intervals. Hah. Nice face, me.

welp. 

Back at home, I came to the realization that

Hey: It's happening.

Sydni has homework.

This week, it's the letters B & M on which they're focusing. Their homework?
Fill up the appropriate pages of their word books with cutouts of things that begin with those respective letters. Welp, we dove into B tonight and had a Blast doing it! ;)

she's a pro. 

On top of cutting & gluing, they've been asked to try and write the words near what they selected. Sydni flew right through that with no questions asked. 

whiz kid! 

Meanwhile, Sasha celebrated National Dog Day [today!] by pondering the reasons why humans cut up paper and stick it to other paper. At least that's what we're gonna wager she was thinking. She probably just wanted fed. 

sasha doooooog

Finished product! 

so, so proud! 

After homework, we cleaned up and readied for bed. We thought this was going to be routine, until Sydni insisted that she wanted a fort.

Yes, a FORT.
What did we do? We put our heads together and constructed a makeshift fort around the corner of her bed, which will do for now until we devise a more creative, more permanent solution [& trust me, we will].

Fort it is!

& ... zonked within 5 minutes.
winnnnnnnnn!

Who knew? I'm gonna start building towers if it continues to make bedtime this easy. Haha.
I vote a successful day.

Let's do it again tomorrow!

xo | cmd

AHHH! FRIIIIIDAY!!

I knew it would be a good day when I arrived at work, sat down and authored up the little note for day 3 of my Lent Letters. And yes, it's taken me three days to decide I'm calling them Lent Letters. Anyway, Friday opened up with that, and only got better from there.


day 3 (:

Friday lunch = Rusty Bucket. Nom. Nom. Freakin' NOM. (:

rusty bucket!

There was a small hiccup when I arrived home and found that Sasha, in what was probably a 5-hour [at least] span of boredom, had annihilated her pillow:

good work, sasha.. haha

^ Really nothing serious, just a poor pup who was locked up all day. I can't say I'd be any different. Fortunately, it was a quick cleanup, followed by a couple loads of laundry and a whole-house re-clean before the company rolled in.

Rob made it home from work mid-evening, and after a power nap, I awoke to the sound of car doors in my driveway.

They. Are. Here!!!

Sure, I should have a picture to mark their arrival, but let's be honest: I think we all know there will be plenty of those to go around this weekend.

G'Night!

xo | cmd

Progress Reports ;)

I'm on day 2 of my 2014 Lent commitment, and I have to say this is one of the best things I've ever done for Lent. I thought about this on the way to work, and consequently found myself preparing my heart for the words I wanted to speak to the person I would randomly draw from the jar. I prayed that I would find the best set of words to convey my appreciation for that person in the short space I've given myself in each little note card. These, after all, are not lengthy letters, but rather just simple notes.

jar of ♥s

^ Yes, this is my own little jar of hearts. This is only day 2 and I'm in love with the idea of doing this.
So there's that update.

Another mini progress report would be a tiny little victory shout that I have not fallen off this balance ball chair yet! Instead, I've put the daggone thing to work, and every spare second I have [which really isn't many, thankfully] is spent doing some sort of exercise. I stretched my back out for a bit today as well, and easily could've just stayed in that moment of bliss for the entire day.

this thing... is the best.

Yes, I occasionally find myself literally upside-down at work. Luckily for me, nobody can see me in my little corner without giving themselves away on the approach. Also, I'm not alone in my obsession with combatting office lethargy: Elisa is now using the other exercise ball I bought originally before I found my chair. Her desk sits lower than mine, so the height difference isn't as noticeable. Lizzy has a pedometer, and spends most of her in-office time marching in place while doing computer and phone work. Nancy does pilates every week, and Dave... well Dave is probably glad he's not a weirdo like the four of us ladies. Haha.

So far, so good.

Last update for today: I think Rob & I finally found our in-town sushi destination. We had made Se7en in Belleville our little spot when we were still living there, but we've been thus far up in the air about a decent dive here. Tonight we ventured over to Mango Tree in Mariemont, where I used to always order carry-out Pad Thai when I still lived in Fairfax. I'd never tried anything from their sushi menu, but we figured it was worth a try.

appetizers: edamame & spring rolls

 Our sushi arrived:

fried rice & top to bottom:
ultimate california roll, philly, spicy california, california

I am now a big fan of this place, and sure, here's a free plug for Mango Tree in Mariemont: GO THERE! Nom nom nom nommmmm...

Oh, and guess what. Tomorrow is FRIDAY.
THAT MEANS...

omgomgomgomgomgomgomgomg.
...they're coming... tomorrow. omg... o..m...g.

I can't wait. I just can't.

I think we'll sleep well tonight (:

xo | cmd

Ash Wednesday | Cyclones Game

Can I be an honorary Catholic for today?
... Or really, for the next 40?

Ok, so I guess I don't need to be a Catholic to participate in Lent, but it's that time and I've already read dozens of proclaimed Lent sacrifices from some of my friends. Chocolate, Facebook, smoking, wine... everyone's got their own vice they're planning to cut out for the next 40 days, and here I am trying to decide if I should or shouldn't get onboard. Again. Every year.

I decided I wanted to do something this year, but struggled with exactly what... until Marianne came up with a genius idea that I quickly and totally decided to borrow. It's really a brilliant idea, and when I asked her if she'd be offended if I did it, she just laughed and told me to share it!

It'll go something [well, exactly, really] like this:

and here.. we.. go!

Simple, right?
Actually, for the most part, yes, it looks like it will be.

Since I'm all about making everything as crafty [and sometimes consequently complicated] as possible, this is how I went about it:

1. Pick 40 names. This was probably the hardest part for me, for a few reasons. First, I got to about 29 or so and started drawing blanks. I managed to slow my brain down and add the rest, but I started to worry that maybe I didn't even have 40 peo-- well, nevermind. I have them. THEN, I struggled with the idea of accidental favoritism, like... how I would decide the order in which I did these. I decided to do this the old-fashioned way: write all 40 names on little paper strips and fold them in half...

40 names.... and... go.

... and stick them in a jar. Accidental favoritism problem solved.

names in a jar, for fun, easy picking.

To take this one step further, I thought that rather than take up space in each little note with the explanation of what it's all about, I took the corny route and put together a little card to throw in each one. I have no doubt some of my friends will laugh at this, but hey, I'm not mass-producing the notes themselves, so hopefully they'll at least appreciate that. (:

a bit corny, sure, but we'll go with it

Today was of course the first day of Lent, so that meant the first note went out today.

day 1 - done! (:

I feel good about this one. We shouldn't need a reason to occasionally reach out to the people who are sometimes obviously close to us to remind them that we appreciate them, but I'll take advantage of Lent and put my heart into it.

If you think this would be something you'd wanna do, well, it's only day 1, but I wrote & sent off the first note, and I'm so glad I did. There are going to be some tough notes written throughout this, which will probably speak to me just as much as I'm hoping they will to their recipients. This could be good... really, really good ♥.

I'll be excited to share, in 40 days, the order in which these names were drawn, and how this impacted me. Call it a mini social experiment, if you will. Day 1, done!

That was how the day started.
The day ended with dinner & a Cyclones game with some of my favorites: Rob, Becky & Paul.

these people ♥

Cincinnati hockey has never really peaked on my radar, but I've concluded that I love pretty much any type of visibly competitive sporting match, especially when it's a contact sport. As soccer players, Becky and I decided that that love comes by nature ;).

There are always the die-hard fans with clever shirts:

There are also the beeramid makers [which we all enjoy watching]:

beeramids!
=SUM[$1 beers + thirsty fans + window ledges]

And then.. there's us: 

the guys...

... & the gals

Caaaaah-lassssyyyy... we know. Haha.

We ended up losing the game in shoot-out, but for what it was, we had a great time with awesome people.

And Becky, my awesome friend that she is, gifted me with these little guys! These were carved out of a single piece of wood; she brought them back from her recent trip to Nepal. They aren't really functional, but I love them and will absolutely be putting them on display at home.

hand-carved wing-in-wing owls!

It's been a good night. Rob and I realized we had never been to a hockey game together, which is weird since STL is all about the Blues over there. Meh. The benefit of mediocre general interest here is that tickets in the 4th row back from center ice were still just $13 each. Awe-some.

first cyclones game with the best friend (:

It's almost Thursday, which means almost Friday, which means my friends from Illinois & Virginia will be here before I know it. YESSSSS.

On that note, g'nite (:

xo | cmd

Sunday Screed + River Time With Friends

Ranty blog entry, comin' riiiiight up.
[you've been warned]

Actually, let me do this in reverse order, from the last half of the day first.

Sydni and I went to church this morning [about which the latter part of this entry will spiel], and afterwards headed home to try a nap [no success] and tidy up the house some. We were done with plenty of time to spare by the time Becky was off work, so we headed up to Northside, picked her up and headed out to the water.

Oh, and check out what she picked up for me at Market!

I. Love. It. [Thanks, Becky!!!]

Anyway, our original plan was to go kayaking, but we changed our minds at the last minute and piled all three of us into a canoe instead. Sydni had a blast.

canoeing with miss becky | viewing window at dewey's!

We finished up on the water after a little while and decided it was dinner time; Sydni said she wanted pizza, so we were off to Dewey's in Oakley - another spot I've not been in years.. at least not the Oakly store. Mike joined in and the four of us did some work on some food before parting ways for the evening. Perfect way to round out the weekend!

************************************

So yeah.. like I said I wanted to get back to, and focus today primarily on the revelation I had this morning and how that's been spanning over the course of my day so far. Here's where this becomes a diatribe.

 

Sydni and I went to church this morning: It was my second time visiting SonRise, and Syd's first. She seemed hesitant at first, but then discovered the tube slide that serves to introduce kids into the classrooms, and immediately threw all caution to the wind. From what I saw and heard afterwards, she loved her class, teacher and the other kids in with her.

 

What hit me this morning, was this: 

I landed in SonRise in the middle of a sermon series, which is not uncommon and I was curious to see how much I'd missed. The focal point of this series is human emotion and how that corresponds/correlates with the presence of God in our lives and His purpose for us. Today was honed in on anger. What's most interesting about anger is that it's one of the hardest emotions to break; even psychiatrists and behavioral scientists don't have failproof methods to combat it. I realized today that I grossly underestimated the amount of anger I had - and still have - in certain areas of my life. 



break free. i will.

If you have, for some reason, been following along over the course of the past year or so, it's no secret to you that I've put myself and been put by others through some not-so-pretty things. I went through a divorce, started dating someone new, relocated across two states, started a new job and found myself back in Cincinnati, both to my disappointment and relief. That's the shortest version of the recap. I've always coined myself a resilient person adaptable to most types of change, but even for me, it was a little much.  

 

Today it hit me that the anger I have inside me, mainly directed a few individuals, is deep-seeded, beyond what I originally thought was just the past year or so. I realized today, that it started over four years ago. I'm not naturally a bitter or resentful person, so for me, that's a long time to be angry with the same person[s]. It wasn't until that anger turned to hate... literally hate in my heart for things that both were and weren't in my control. I started building a prison around my own heart.

 

I have been crippling myself with this, more evidently so in the past year. From 2009 to the end of 2011, I had become an angrier person than I had ever been, ever. No, not angry as in physically-aggressive or violent, but emotionally furious: with some other people, with the stagnant state of my life, but most of all with myself for keeping record of things in my head but keeping my mouth shut about them until it was too late. In 2012, I made and went through with the final choice to end my marriage, which still stings to think about [not the other person, but the idea that I was a part of something that had become toxic to the point of ripping us both apart as separate people if we forced it any further]. Things boiled over: Things I'd left unsaid for three years, reasons I felt the way I did and harsh judgments and facts that at the time seemed entirely justified to say out loud. They came rushing out in ways I didn't even expect: lists on lists of reasons we had failed, why I was so enraged, to the core, and unequivocally inconsolable

 

People tried to help me. Family, who fortunately in my world is always there for me, first, and of course my closest friends at the time, all tried to be an outlet in one way or another for me. But no... I was too angry, too hurt, too embarrassed by it all, too exhausted to slow down and put a white-hot boiling heart on my sleeve for the world to see. Instead, I shut down. I stopped speaking all together, to just about everyone.. about anything that mattered, that is. People even as close as co-workers wouldn't have been able to feel the heat, because I made it a direct point to shelter people around me from the burden of whatever strife I had going on. Only those carried by gusts of gossip or those as close to me as I'd let any of them had any inkling of how defeated and abandonded I really felt.

 

Here's the thing that hit me today: I can't do this anymore. More than that, I don't want to do this anymore. I'm so relieved [& honest] to report that now, not even a year after my divorce, that I am happy. I really am, and it's genuine this time. It's sincere, not urged or forced for the sake of blending in or standing out, whichever was called for. I'm happy, from the inside out and not the other way around.

 

However,

 

By that, I primarily mean that, we'll call it 98% of what was causing me to deteriorate before, has been removed and replaced with new, functioning elements that have been integral parts of my repair so far. The 2% I can't claim, though, is the lingering amount of anger I still have, because I am both stubborn and human. Because I have realized the anger I have, its targets and I have recognized that I will NOT be able to do a 180 turnaround overnight. I will continue praying, and continue focusing my energy on letting go of things beyond my control and out of my hair.

 

I will give you two very real, very legitimate reasons that I have to do this:  

they love me, & deserve the unfiltered best of my love

^ I admitted to myself today that I am not capable of loving the important people in my life now, the way I want to and the way they deserve, if I'm still harboring resentment or hate for anyone from my past. Chapters of my life were written and closed for a reason, and I need to focus now the fact that it didn't destroy me; in actuality it made me stronger, wiser and in some ways, more passionate about the ones I love and the causes in which I believe. It's taught me the stark differences between fake and real, forced and natural, and surface feelings versus a state of being that starts from places deeper than I've ever been before.
 

MONTHS ago, I started a series of letters. By series, I mean just a handful, but very specific and very different, in there own ways. Those letters will not be shared here, at least not by me, but it is my committment to an invitation given today by a Pastor I've yet to get to know well, to initiate the first step of forgiving: Them AND/or myself. I'm scared to admit that the latter will most definitely be harder than the first, but the angry cycle I'm in now has to break. 

 

I didn't much enjoy it while I was sitting through it this morning, feeling that familiar conviction when it seems like a lesson was written with your face in mind. It doesn't always happen that way, but when it does, I sit and hang onto each word, knowing that if I'm doing that, I must need it more than I thought.

 

I'll leave it at that.

 

Yours truly,  

imperfect, but trying.
i'm not giving up.

xo | cmd