Two things you should check out, pronto:
If you’re not reading the lovely, inspirational Gwen Bell, you really, really should be. She’s one of the internet women I admire most, and is always full of great ideas, inspiration and general feel-goodery. Her latest challenge is the Best Of ’09 Blog Challenge, with a prompt for reflecting on 2009 for every day. I’m definitely going to be participating, and you should, too! The details are here.
Also, if you aren’t familiar with Princess Nebraska, than you should be. I will try and avoid the Emotions, but seriously, Elizabeth is amazing—she’s crafty, a great writer, funny, smart as hell and just plain awesome. She’s one of my favorite friends. Anyways, Elizabeth and I both write for Style Lush and Elizabeth came up with the AMAZING 125 Gifts Under $25 Gift Guide. This will basically be saving my rear as I start Christmas shopping. I love it! Plus? The woman is pregnant, and SICK AS HELL. Extra bonus points to this one.
So, I am THRILLED to announce that I will be meeting up with some Chicago-area bloggers (ALL ARE WELCOME!) in December. Andrew and I will be visiting his family in Illinois, and plan to spend some time in Chicago. Since I know that many of you lovelies reside there, I thought a meet-up sounded like a lot of fun!
The details:
We are meeting on
December 30th around 7 pm at Piece in Chicago.
If you are anywhere NEAR Chicago, I am going to expect to see your smiling face there. Lots of people from 20SB are planning to come, as are some other bloggers and friends! Even you non-blogging Chi-town friends had BETTER be there. I’m going to go as far as to say that if you can drive to Chicago within several hours, YOU BETTER BE THERE. For you local folks, it’s right off the Blue Line (whatever that is!).
I will continue to berate you with details and reminders, because I can’t wait to meet y’all! Also, I can’t wait to prove to Andrew (who will also be in attendance) that people from the interwebz are good people.
Hope to see you on December 30 at Piece in Chicago! 7 pm! Be there or be square!
I really love going out to dinner. Andrew and I switch off nights for cooking dinner, and usually at least once a week, we find ourselves out at a restaurant. And seriously, I love it. Nothing is better after a longggg day than sitting down elsewhere, having someone else cook and clean and bring me an endless stream of Diet Coke.
But here’s the deal: I think that many people need lessons on how to behave at restaurants, both patrons and servers. It annoys the crap out of me. Last night, Andrew and I had a meal that really exemplified the problems in restaurants today.
First, we were seated. And then…nothing. Seriously, 10 minutes went by and nary a “Hello!” or an “I’ll be right with you!” or anything. Listen, I understand that servers are busy. But really? A hello? An acknowledgment of the fact that there are two living, breathing, HUNGRY people waiting to eat? On the other hand, I’m not a huge fan of the “fake small talk,” my least favorite being the question for the ages: “Have you been here before?” Does it matter? Are you looking for confirmation that I’ve already enjoyed the food enough that I’ve returned? I mean, what is it? WHY MUST YOU KNOW? Even more insulting is when they smile knowingly and say, “I’ve seen YOU here before!” Especially when you’re at Red Robin for your bi-monthly date with a certain friend. Yes, we love your fries and ranch, now leave us alone and don’t judge us for coming so often.
Anyways, last night, after Andrew and I were FINALLY seated and had placed our order, I couldn’t help but eavesdropping on the table behind us, comprised of a young set of parents, their two children and some aunt or grandmother figure. I am a chronic eavesdropper, which I realize is MY ISSUE, but still, this family was LOUD. And? They were discussing some of the grossest, most inappropriate things. Like surgery, infections and the nasty side effects they have, blood, dental work and a variety of other bodily issues. Am I the only person on earth whose mother didn’t allow them to discuss gross things at the table? I know I sound all Victorian, but certain things are not discussed at dinner. Dear Aunt Hazel’s bowel troubles do not make me want to sit down and enjoy my pasta. As if this conversation wasn’t enough, one of the kids started making fake gagging noises—and the father was egging him on! I know I am super vomit sensitive, but really? Pretty sure I’m not alone in those thoughts.
Thankfully, the family left, and our food was finally brought out by someone other than our server. We were just getting ready to dig in when our waitress came bustling over.
“How is everything?” she asked, though we CLEARLY HADN’T EATEN A DARN THING.
I smiled and nodded, and Andrew said, “Well, we’re about to find out!”
Again, pray tell: WHAT RESPONSE ARE YOU LOOKING FOR THERE, SERVERS?! I haven’t tasted it. I don’t know how anything is. Our waitress last night sort of backtracked and said, “Well, it all looks right, doesn’t it?!” Why, yes! Kudos to you for bringing me WHAT I ORDERED! And may I please give my compliments to the chef for providing me food that doesn’t immediately incite hatred by simply looking at it? I mean, really. Let me take a bite. Then I will happily give you my opinion. Also: save your questions for when I haven’t just eaten a bite. I don’t think you want to see what I’m chewing, and I certainly want to avoid the awkwardness of talking with my mouth full.
Sheesh.
But, as usual, the icing on the cake came at the end of the meal, when the family discussing all manner of medical ilk decided to leave. I heard them shuffling about and then felt something on my right shoulder. It was a butt. Yes, a rear end. SITTING ON MY SHOULDER. The mother of the family was ushering her perfectly mobile 8-year-old out from the table, and apparently couldn’t see/feel/sense THAT SHE WAS IN MY SPACE. She knocked my purse off my chair and did I mention STUCK HER BUTT IN MY FACE?! I already heard enough about the terrible things happening from that end of her body, I didn’t need a meet and greet.
Finally, I realize that this will cause many of you to HATE MY STINKING GUTS, but I am a curmudgeon when it comes to tipping. Before you hate me, let me explain: I am ALL about the ginormous surprise tip for people who are working hard, giving excellent service and generally being nice. I’m easily impressed: smile at me, refill my drinks, say thank you, be generally kind and efficient, don’t make me wait forever. Also? Having worked in customer service, I know the value of being complimented to the powers that be, so I will totally call and inform your boss about how you made my night. Sadly, most restaurants I patronize hire unenthusiastic people who act as if I am infringing on their free time by being there. Sadly for them, I will also call and tell your boss how slow and rude and awful you were. And? I’ll only leave 10%. I’ve been told by many server friends that I am in the minority: that most people tip a set amount, regardless of service, but I truly believe in rewarding a job well done. So, servers: LET ME REWARD YOU. Do a good job. Or at least be nice.
I feel better now. What annoys you when you go out to eat? Am I ridiculous in any regard here?
*I’m blogging through my school years: Preschool one & two, kindergarten, first grade and second grade can be found by clicking on each of them.*
Thinking about third grade makes me smile to this day. To a little kid, it had all the markings of a great school year. My mom and I used to go Back To School shopping every summer, and I remember laying out my clothes for my first day of third grade weeks in advance. A new school had been built just around the corner from my house, and we were the first students to attend. Everything was brand new—the asphalt was so dark and smelled of fresh tar. The classrooms were lovely and clean, and I remember being so excited.
When my dad took me to meet my teacher, I was suddenly nervous. I wore my favorite pink sundress and clutched his hand tightly as we walked to my classroom. As soon as the door opened, my new teacher, Mrs. Airoldi approached me. She bent down, introduced herself, and asked if she could give me a hug.
“I think that’s the best hug I’ve ever gotten!” she exclaimed. “I think you’re going to be my hugger this year!”
I smiled, and felt instantly comfortable—and to this day, I like to think that I give good hugs.
One blog post could never sum up the affect that Mrs. Airoldi had on my life that year. Mrs. A introduced me to Writer’s Workshop—she encouraged me to write, to tell my stories and to publish them. We read books—both as a class and on our own. When we answered questions correctly, we got to take a “smartie” which was basically a cherry sour candy that came from a gumball machine. Even math was fun. We practiced multiplication using timed tests, and turned practicing our times tables into a game. EVERYTHING was fun.
Mrs. Airoldi used to write each of us little notes that she’d put into our “mailbox” describing the good things we did. She was a master at encouraging her students with positive attention, and I loved her for it. The standards were high in her class—but instead of demanding the best, she made us want to give it to her. If our class got compliments for our behavior, she noted it. After several such compliments, she through us a big party to celebrate our good behavior. Mrs. Airoldi made every child in her class feel special. We are in touch to this day, emailing, sharing Christmas cards and keeping in touch. As a teacher, she remains my biggest inspiration and influence. I am forever grateful that she was my teacher.
One BIG thing from my third grade year was my first boyfriend, Terry. I wrote him secret love notes and put them in his desk. I had NO IDEA he knew it was me—until our mom’s talked at church, and she shared a few of the notes with her. Yes, they were innocuous little tokens of love, but ohmygoodness, having him KNOW and show HIS MOM, and having her SHOW MY MOM? I was mortified. Thankfully, my affections were returned, and on Valentine’s Day, I received a giant chocolate present, with three separate pieces of chocolate reading I LOVE U. I was touched. Terry and I started “going out” and didn’t break up ’til 4th grade. “Going out” included hanging out at lunch and recess and me occasionally going over to his house to play Lego’s. Terry was also oddly obsessed with falcons and used to raise birds. That basically scared the crap out of me—I hate birds.
In third grade, we performed a musical called “Goin’ Buggy” with lots of cute songs about, well…bugs. I was cast as Lana The Ladybug, who had a solo song. I was ecstatic, but sadly, my star performance was thwarted by salmonella, which I contracted late in the school year. It was…awful. I threw up at school, threw up at home every day for about a week, had a super high fever and was sicker than I’d ever been. Even worse, salmonella is a bacteria that lies dormant in your system; if it grows back, you can relapse. Basically, I was the friend who’d throw up at your house. Not cute.
Salmonella and embarrassing boy moments aside, third grade is one of my best, most memorable years.
- All you can expect of yourself is your best at any given moment.
- Sometimes, even though it hurts in the moment, it’s a gift when certain people aren’t part of your life any longer.
- There’s no prize for Having All Your Laundry Done or Cleanest House or Perfect Anything.
- You’re never too old to just want to hug your dad or sit on your mom’s lap.
- Living anyone else’s dreams or expectations is unnecessary.
- Yoga is necessary.
- It’s fine to not have it all figured out.
- You can always change your mind.
- Being productive can sometimes mean just relaxing, and producing a well-rested version of yourself.
- Cereal is a perfectly appropriate lunch.
- There’s no competition. No, really.
- Hot baths are magic.
- You’re good enough, just the way you are, even in jammies and bedhead.
What are your current mantras?
I wish I had something exciting and substantial to post for y’all today, but, I will be a busy bee for most of my Friday. I will definitely NOT be Black Friday shopping, because, well…I just don’t do it. I don’t do crowds, or people who beat each other to get the last Dyson Animal (though, if I was in the market for one, I cannot promise that I wouldn’t throw an elbow if necessary!) and I certainly don’t do sleeping out in the cold for any reason that doesn’t involve s’mores and getting back to nature.
No, Friday is for breakfast with one of my oldest and dearest friends, Dina and for procuring and decorating a Christmas tree with my family, something I am ecstatic about. For the past 22 years, we’ve gone to the same Christmas tree lot, listened to the same CD’s and basically enjoyed the same little nuances of our time together. It’s the highlight of my holiday season, and really kicks off Christmas for me.
A few random things in my absence:
- THIS ONE IS IMPORTANT: How many of you live in the Chicago area? Or in Illinois in general? See, I’ll be spending some time in Illinois, visiting Andrew’s family, from December 26-January 4, and I am hoping to meet up with a few of you lovely Chicago/Illinois bloggers. I’ve never really organized a meet-up or a tweet-up or anything like that, but I’d love to hang out with y’all, if possible. Shoot me an email or comment and let me know if you might be free. I’m staying in Springfield, but would be willing to drive to Chi-town or near it to hang out.
- If you are a member of 20SB, you should vote for the Bootlegger Awards! I already voted here. I’m not going to lie—I agonized over these decisions. It was really, really tough to nail down who I’d vote for in each category, because honestly, the 20SB community is AMAZING and has brought me some of my favorite people, ever. So, go vote and support the bloggers you love and want to see be honored for their great writing.
- You should totes follow me on Twitter (I’m not sure about my use of “totes” there. Was it weird? It felt weird, sorta!). But yes, my Tweets are protected, thanks to the abundance of middle school students on Twitter. I need some privacy, but as long as I can tell that you’re not on the roll sheet I call every morning, I do love followers.
- I hope that you and yours enjoyed a lovely Thanksgiving, and that whatever you’re doing today—shopping, eating leftovers, sleeping in, decorating your tree—is wonderful.
Every year, I try and sit down to write a list of the things I am most thankful for.
My gratitude this year goes beyond being just appreciative. It is, at times, overwhelming relief.
2009 has been a year of close calls. It started in February, when I was given a pink slip and told that I might not have a job next year. In April, I found out that I was “safe” and had a contract for the year to come. In August, my family received the worst news: my grandma had been hospitalized with E. Coli poisoning and her kidneys were failing. As we gathered together in a small hospital room, it seemed as if we might lose my Grandma Carol, who is one of the most important people in my life. Slowly, she began healing and overcoming her disease. I spoke with her yesterday regarding what we are all bringing to Thanksgiving. I was so happy when I got off the phone, realizing that it might have been otherwise. Yes, my dad is still battling cancer, but we have made it through chemo and are nearing the end of radiation. So far, things are looking good. We have hope, and at this point, we are grateful for all that has gone well.
This year, I am thankful, most of all for the things that could have been different. I could be laid off, I could have lost my grandmother, my dad could be much more seriously advanced. But he is not, and for that, I am thankful. I am thankful that tomorrow, I will go to my parents house and it will be like other years. All of those that I love will be there, and we will share a meal and say grace and be grateful.
I am thankful for my family, who has always been close, but seems to grow closer during times of struggle. I am thankful for my mom, who is my friend, my confidante, my support. For my dad, who is the person I turn to for advice, who makes me laugh and who I trust unequivocally. I am thankful for my little brother, who has a big year coming up in which he will marry my soon-to-be sister-in-law, something I am so excited about for him. I am thankful for my grandparents and the love and support they provide. I lucked out in the family department, and I am grateful that I have a family I absolutely adore beyond all reason.
I am thankful for my friends. For the nights over coffee or wine or board games, where we have shared laughter and tears. For G-chats and IM’s and postcards and dinners out. For nights at Red Robin or sushi or on the couch. For text messages that make me giggle. For the times when you, my dear friends, have held me together with your prayers, your love, your listening ears and your hugs. For my Blathering ladies, who took an ordinary September weekend and turned it into magic and love and friendships that have stood the test of time.
I am grateful for Andrew. Yes, we’ve had our rough moments, but those have been outweighed by nights laughing so hard I can’t breathe and cuddles and kisses. For the 9 months we’ve managed to share an apartment without one of us incurring a serious injury or death, and we’ve even managed to make it pretty and work out the cooking and cleaning and the business of life. I’m grateful that you’ve truly become my best friend, the MVP of Team Amy, and my favorite person. I’m thankful that we haven’t given up.
I am thankful that I can right these words at all. That I am so blessed and loved and have enough to write 500 words of gratitude about. I am deeply blessed. There are bad days, there are really bad days but mostly, there are days. And many of them are filled with sweetness and joy. I am so lucky.
And I am so, so grateful. For all of it.
Happy, happy Thanksgiving, friends. May it be lovely.
I am sure that some of you are so tired of me and my gosh darn CHEERINESS and THANKFULNESS, and I am so sorry that you are bored, but also that you have a cold, shriveled little heart that cannot tolerate the gratitude I feel for life this year. I am kidding about that cold heart part, but seriously.
I just feel like I have a lot to be grateful for. And tomorrow, I’ll lay down the big, huge, thankful post, but for today?
I want to show gratitude to YOU.
You, my blog readers. You, the people who take the time to stop by here, to leave comments, to send emails, to reply to tweets. Those who stop by and say nothing at all.
When I started blogging several years ago, I loved it, but I never took it seriously. When I purchased this domain in March and started really working on being here every single day, I had no idea that my site would grow into a community of people I love and treasure—not just online, but offline, too.
My blog friends have prayed for my dad and grandma regularly throughout our ordeal this year. My blog friends have sent me some of the nicest emails I’ve ever received. They have encouraged me in the midst of personal crisis’, relationship issues, the ending of friendships and worries about my future. They have made me LAUGH with their own stories and made me cry. Some of them have crossed the line from “online friends” to just plain friends. Friends I see regularly, friends I can’t wait to see again. Friends who fill my email box, my Facebook wall, my snail mail box with love and care and friendship.
Blogging has reconnected me to old friends, to people I had no idea were reading or paying attention. It has opened my eyes to people and view points and goals and books and careers and ideas and plans.
And for that, I can never write an adequate post.
So, if you’re here, on this page, THANK YOU. I am thankful for you.
ACT ONE
I am in Raley’s, desperately trying to get a coffee and some cash before heading out to meet Gina for a craft fair. The woman in front of me is purchasing a latte and trying to get $100 cash back using her ATM card. She gets to the part when she enters her PIN and it doesn’t work. The woman explains to the barista that she sometimes forgets her PIN and then proceeds to try A BILLION more PINs before finally finding success. I was clearly agitated by the time I got to the register, and the barista apologized for it taking so long. I wasn’t annoyed (okay, I was, but not that much) by the time, but by the fact that all I could think of was THIS WOMAN IS STEALING SOMEONE’S IDENTITY AND NO ONE IS STOPPING HER! I thought about it all day, and wondered if someone was missing her $100.
ACT TWO
I order a plain coffee on the way to work. I ask for some fresh milk in it, because I can TELL the milk has been sitting out for approximately 15 years. Instead of putting in cold milk from behind the counter, the barista GRABS THE OLD MILK and pours it in irritatedly.
Instead of asking for a new drink, I throw it out, not wanting to annoy the barista or die of food poisioning. Sad face.
ACT THREE
I saw New Moon last night, which was a fun yet very cheesy film. I loved it because of just how silly and girly and full of teen romance it was. I also loved it because of Jacob. Ohhhh, my. Those abs! That tattoo! Once he got the haircut, I was swooning. Until I started to feel TERRIBLE about finding a 17-year-old actor attractive. I was overwhelmed with guilt, sure that someone was going to accuse me of being a creepy old 26-year-old staring at a 17-year-old’s abs.
Sigh. Sometimes, I need to calm down with the cray cray.
Sometimes, I look around at my little life, and I wonder…hmmmm. Is this what it should be? Is this what I want it to be? Is this all it could be? And the truth is, I don’t know. I’m lucky enough to be surrounded (in real life, and online) by people doing all sorts of different things. I love the richness of experience and beliefs I see all around me in my life.
Some friends are happily married, working and settled in their lives. They are buying homes and working hard and socking away money for a yearly vacation. And they are happy. Sure, their lives are quiet and small-ish, but they are in love. They are making their mark on the world, with Etsy shops and writing and blogs and working on projects in the world around them.
Other friends are leaving behind the conventional life to travel, to be nomadic, to make the most of their 20′s. The desire to be married or have babies or a career or anything that seems status quo does not exist…yet. In fact, they regard anything that seems traditional as “boring” or “ordinary” and seem to hold a certain amount of disdain for those people choosing a more normal life. And sometimes, I envy them. I think, “A one way ticket to Europe with no plans or agenda sounds AMAZING!”
Currently, my life falls into the first category. I am in a stable relationship, a stable career, stable, stable, stable. And for the most part? I am happy. I am an unapologetic homebody: sweat pants and TV and books and baths and good friends and family surrounding me are all I really need to find joy.
Still, there is a small, almost silent, voice that sometimes pipes up and asks, “Is this it?”
And lately, it’s been getting a bit louder. I love my job, and I am blessed to have it. I know that eventually, I want to get married and have a family and put down roots. I love the life I have here, with family and friends and comfort and familiarity. But sometimes? I wonder what else is out there.
I wonder what it’d be like to live elsewhere for awhile, to spend a summer traveling with no real agenda, to take a break from “normal life” and do whatever I’d like to do.
This morning, I started listening to the audiobook of The Four Hour Work Week by Timothy Feriss, after reading about it on Chelsea’s blog and having Doniree mention a few of the principles of it in her writing as well. I’m not going to lie: I’m a little skeptical. Location independence? Making passive income? I’ve often joked that there’s a small part of me that is a throwback to the Greatest Generation, because I am a person who tends to value Hard Work and having a Good Work Ethic and punching the clock and hours spent. I am forever grateful to my parents and grandparents for ingraining in me a healthy respect for working hard, having a job and dedication myself to a profession.
I don’t want to give up teaching. But, I am also looking for ways to expand and make the most of my time. My profession gifts me with the time to travel, explore and see the world; however, financially, it is not always possible (okay, it’s not ever really possible) for me to jaunt around the world or live a certain lifestyle. But there is that other time: the 2 months of my summer, my 8 additional weeks off a year, my evenings and weekends that I want to expand. I don’t simply want to be defined by my teaching: I want a self that extends beyond job.
I guess what I want most, what I am truly seeking is a balance. I don’t think I’ll ever be a person who wants to live in a different city every year, or who can ever truly let go of the profession that I love and am fulfilled by. But the rest of that time? My self-description beyond job description? I suppose I’m looking to fill that out a little further.
So, here’s to the start of that journey. To plans that go beyond my lessons and my summers. To a life well-lived.
What dreams are YOU harboring?
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This work by www.justatitch.com is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.