Where Are The Bodies Buried?

Do you have those friends that know where the bodies are buried? Of course I don't mean that literally, but who knows all of the tea in your life? I am not talking about the "What do you want to be when you grow up?" kind of conversations. I am talking about the hard stuff. Like "Do you want to be buried or cremated?" and "Who will be guardian of your kids should something happen?" Are you having those hard conversations with anyone? They are uncomfortable, awkward, and often painful, but they need to be had. 

I have had these conversations a lot more recently. There were (and are) a lot of tears. It has been painful, but surprisingly, somewhat therapeutic. It becomes less awkward as we talk and it spurs on all kinds of interesting things to be learned from each other. It is almost like we should have parties at each others' houses to say this is where I keep the checkbook, this is where the passwords are, and this is what  I want when _______ (you fill in the blank). 

It is also a reminder that there is so much value to living in community. As we have all been living in such isolation for the year, that community has become fragmented and distanced. I am guilty of it for sure. I get lost in the land of plastic toys and bubble machines in our backyard, trying to get through the day without worrying if one of us contracted COVID-19 and what our jobs will look like tomorrow. I have been guilty of not leaving voicemails. Preferring a text over a phone call. And email over Zoom. But I have been stopped in my tracks. I am making the phone calls to say the things I mean. I am writing the longer messages to tell people that they are on my heart and mind. I am asking people to come help us care for our son so that we are not always walking in that alone. There is such beauty in the fellowship and also such release from all of the pressures being able to share in those precious moments of life. The other night I asked my mother-in-law and sister-in-law to come help me with Thomas' dinner and night routine. It turned out to be a memory forever etched in my brain as we sat in his room and sang songs. He loved the audience and I loved that he was able to see that there are so many people caring for him and loving him. 

So many times I have found myself saying we need to pause and say what is on our hearts. We need to share where the "bodies are buried." Life is hard enough that we shouldn't be walking it alone. 

Pulling Weeds.

Growing up, we lived one house away from my grandparents. What a gift to my sister and I (and probably to my grandparents too). Every day from kindergarten to my senior year, I went to their house for breakfast every single day. We had assigned days for the menu, Mondays and Wednesdays were for my choice of cereal, Tuesdays and Thursdays were eggs any style and Fridays were for French toast. One thing to note was that my Poppa also fresh squeezed orange juice for me every morning. If you have ever squeezed oranges by hand, you will know that this is a true labor of love. It takes a lot of time and also energy. And yet, every morning, my fresh squeezed juice was waiting. 

There are a lot of memories I have with my grandparents - too many to ever put into words. An incredibly vivid memory of Gran and Pops was their yard. They had a fairly good sized yard by Southern California standards and every inch had been touched by their hands, whether it was my Gran's roses and sweet pea garden or the countless hand laid bricks by my Poppa. He also had a pretty incredible greenhouse which was always fun for hide and seek. 

Poppa's cactus flower

Since we spent so much time at their house, we often found my Poppa out in the yard picking weeds. I used to think it was so cool because he had these little special hand tools for the tough ones, but he mostly used his leathered hands to pull them out. One thing I remember distinctly was the importance of pulling the weeds by the roots to make sure that you pulled it out completely. Without the root, you were just scratching the surface and the weed would grow right back. 

I have been pulling weeds with Thomas in our backyard and these memories of my Poppa come flooding back. Thomas loves to throw all of the weeds into the trash. He is incredibly helpful. But I find myself passing on Poppa's wisdom about getting the weeds at the roots. I am not sure Thomas understands just yet, but I hope to keep finding ways for him to recall these kinds of life lessons. 

What a metaphor for life. We have to get at the root of everything and with all that our world has faced in recent months, we have a lot to root out. But also to continue the work, one root at a time. It is not a job we can just mow right over. It is slow and painstaking, but worth it because you want the grass to grow and thrive. 

Keep pulling the weeds. Get at the root. And teach others to help you. It is better when the work is done together.

Love is Love.

It is with a heavy heart that I think of the victims and families of Orlando. And as I mentioned in my letter to the Facebook world (whatever that means), I am not sad because many are of the LGBT community, but I mourn because they are human beings. It is sickening that there are people that live in fear for any reason. That is the tragedy.

The feeling of exclusion is real. We have all felt it to one extent or another, whether we were chosen last for the elementary school kickball team, or that time we were new to a school or group and sat alone at lunch time because we didn't yet have any friends. Or maybe it was the one time you stood alone in a classroom debate. Reasons somewhat irrelevant now, but at the time, the hurt and/or solitude was quite real. In recent years, I reflect on my tenure as a teacher in a local Christian school. I distinctly remember feeling excluded because I was not of the same heritage as the majority within the school, nor did I belong to the same church denomination, in addition to dating someone of a different race. I distinctly remember a conversation with an administrator about something as trivial as the color of my nail polish, which was greatly frowned upon because it was "different." In no way did I live in fear for my life for such things, but I know I didn't fit. I felt the exclusion. And that exclusion has definitely defined my views and I begrudgingly say that my sentiments of that experience are not fondly recalled. And of course, my feelings pale in comparison to those that live in fear daily because of race or lifestyle. I can't even begin to fathom what it must be like to be hated or mistreated due to orientation or race. The feeling of fear or intimidation is no way to live as a human. For ANY reason. It is saddening that friends within the LGBT community have suffered such fear and alienation. And for what?

I see some of these same patterns of judgment and divisions within the church. There are those quick to judge because of one's background, past, religious beliefs, lifestyle, etc. I see friends that have to live in secret for fear of losing their jobs, which is disheartening. Fellow Christians that are dismissed for their beliefs or pains ignored because they live "differently" than the next person in the pew. And as I am no expert, nor do I stand on a soapbox claiming to be perfect, I do know enough of my Bible to know that Jesus loved all people. He loved lepers, prostitutes, fishermen, tax collectors, priests, everyone. Jesus was all about love. Jesus was love. Jesus is love. His very action on the cross was love. And beyond His calling for us to love our neighbors (which is everyone), He also calls us to mourn with those that mourn. This is a precious time we can all stand united in our mourning with the people of Orlando. With people that are hurting all over this world. For whatever reason. It is our opportunity to be the very hands and feet of love to each other in every situation.

I wonder when as a society, as a world, we will stop fighting over bathrooms, or what box is checked on forms, and what we wear, look like, or prefer. Rather, I pray our children will learn more than to "tolerate" others, but to love people for the fact that they are human. It would be a dream to honor ALL cultures, beliefs, and communities that have a foundation rooted in love rather than hate. That somehow we could love as God does.

Please understand that this philosophy does not indicate that every child deserves a trophy. (That ideology is going to lead to some real issues for society.) It simply means that we do not need to come from a place of hate. That people are awarded jobs because they are qualified not because they meet a particular quota. Or that they are not excluded because they are "different." It means that when people want to join together for a common cause, that there is not a deeply rooted sense of fear of violence, retaliation, or hate. This idea is based on the fact that we are all created uniquely, with our common thread as human beings created in the image of God. We are in no means perfect and one group or race is not superior to another. We are created equally. And rather than burn books, crosses, buildings, or flags, or dodge bullets in a concert halls or nightclubs, or suffer from any other senseless acts of crime and violence, my prayer is that the pitchforks get put away. For good.

Hug your fellow humans. Love on people. Share a meal. Make the needed phone calls. Bury the differences. Embrace the commonalities. For whatever it is worth, I see you. I hear you. I love you.

Love is love. It is as simple and as complicated as that.

Reset Button and then Reset Again. Then one more time.

Oh balls...it has been one heck of a wild ride since leaving my job weeks ago. And just when I thought I had it all figured out, I have had to hit the reset button not once, not twice, but three times until I could finally get it right. It is no accident that in the last few weeks I have learned that I've been running 100 mph for so long that now everyone seems snail paced.I have also learned how to check my ego, how to value my worth, and that the grass is not always greener. But through it all, I am strong and I am finding my groove again.

I am thankful that I have met some amazing people along the way in the recent journey. Genuinely good people that I wish nothing but good on. This is more about learning that since leaving the teaching profession, my heart has not been settled. As I was so heavily involved with my kids as a teacher and coach, I have yearned (without realizing), that I find such joy in helping people. It is in my nature to serve and support. I have a need to be needed. The dichotomy comes in my creative brain that thrives in chaos. It has created such a challenge professionally as I find that one is sacrificed for the other. In a perfect and hopeful world, both will find equal place.

What I have learned in recent weeks is that the man I do life with is incredibly patient, kind, supportive and all things good for me. As I tend to find myself on the roller coaster time and time again, he stands by while I loop around one too many times without an I told you so on his breath (though I think he keeps those thoughts quietly in his back pocket). Bless him for enduring. And for his bouts of humor.

I have also learned that I'm impatient and often in the worst ways. I knew this about myself but have had to finally admit it begrudgingly. It does cause for a few eye rolls.

I am learning that doing life with intention is not easy. Life is messy. Sometimes life sucks, but life is also beautiful. There is a lot of hurt in the midst, but I have hope in the healing. Life can be chaos, but there is calm before and after the storms. I color in chaos.

In putting down roots again, there is vulnerability. True commitment stays, even when things get ugly. You can't run or hide when things get tough or uncomfortable. I want to be in it for the long haul. I want moments of joy to be etched in my memory bank as a well of resource when there are moments of drought.

For the most part, I am back in my own skin. My body is still somewhat tired (especially after starting Pure Barre, but I'll save that for a future post) but my soul is reenergized. Travel has done my heart well. I've spent time in Idaho with some of my favies and also took a long overdue vacation with an open ended agenda. It was an incredible coastal trip with my favorite companion. Lots of outdoor adventures, food indulges, and some great wine with amazing weather in the quaintest cabin made for moments to treasure along with the rocks and shells we brought home.

All to say, I'm indulging in my art again, getting healthy, cooking a lot (and actually well!), and enjoying the company I keep. Like the year I moved 8 times, and the year I went through meeting a ton of new people in my relationship transition, this Year of Adventure has led to significant professional change(s). But like the other changes, I'm finding myself in an even better place than I would imagine as it is opening the future for good.

So I will keep on dreaming. I will take the risks. And live just on the outskirts of my comfort zone. I will breathe deeply. I will look for joy, even in the desert moments. I encourage you to do the same. Trust me. It's where you find the treasure.

The J Collection.

xoxoxo for the well wishes.

It is no secret that somehow along the way, I have collected a handful of J's, many of which I hold near and dear. And two of my favorite J's sent some gorgeous flowers to my house in well wishes. Note, the flowers were all in shades of orange, which I know was purposeful as they coordinate with the city in which I now live. **insert fluttering heart for that attention to detail**

I am ready to get this chapter underway. I have come to terms that I have cancer, yet again. The tiresome days are starting to wear as we are in the nitty gritty days of moving as well as the overall feeling of just knowing what is to come. I am 100% ready to kick this thing. As well, I am reveling in the creativity that is starting to flow. Crisis has a way of awakening the sleeping giants. And let me tell you, this cancer journey (times 3) is a story in the making.

January 30 will mark Cancer-versary #9, marking another year to wear teal. If you choose to join in on the teal on that day, please use #fortheloveofovaries on your social media and tag me in any posts as I am still making my yearly collage to mark the day of life and celebration, as well as bring awareness to ovarian cancer fighters and survivors.

xoxoxo.
.ellen.

Sidenote: I am forever grateful for the outpouring of love, calls, visits, offers to help. As there are moments that this is all quite overwhelming, please forgive me if my response time is delayed slightly as I am still working full time until surgery, in the midst of moving, and scheduling a large handful or pre-op and post-op appointments as well as preparing for the few weeks out of the office.

2016: The Year of Adventure.

I had no idea when the year started with a pending motto, that my declaration for 2016 to be The Year of Adventure that it would mean that my adventure would begin with some major unexpected news.

Almost to the date of my January 30, ovarian cancer-versary (the diagnosis date of my Stage III ovarian cancer), that I would once again be marking a new cancer-versary date on my calendar: January 6, 2016--Melanoma. I don't know if I am even ready to claim it, but I am now battling skin cancer. This is going to be a roller coaster of new emotions and battles. A bit of background to all of this...I had not been feeling well and I had taken a bit of a sabbatical from doctor visits as it gets tiring being their pin cushion. I got my new insurance underway and made the trek to my childhood doctor, Dr. Longnecker. He is good. He knows my family, my health history, and I trust him. Little did I know that the visit would uncover many looming medical conditions.

"Your life is an occasion. Rise to it."

I am not yet ready to go in to detail of all of it, but the main concerns focus around the confirmed melanoma diagnosis and pending tests for breast cancer. If I am a cat with nine lives, I am looking at borrowing a few as I am running out.

Where this all stands...I have an emergency appointment with a melanoma specialist on Tuesday, January 12. Surgery is most likely to happen then to see if we can clear the margins. I am going to have my entourage with me to help me hear the important details at the appointment.

What I have learned in this thus far...I have the most amazing support system in place. Jack is my superhero. I am forever grateful that God has blessed me with the very best man to be my partner in all of this. Family has rallied around in love. I have friends that are my prayer warriors, cheerleaders, partners, and advocates. I work with incredible people that are holding me up in love, prayer, support, and positive energy.

It is no question that once again, God has my attention. That just when I felt like I was on the mountain top, I find myself in a new valley. I have to believe that this will be another miraculous victory. And I also have to believe that it is just another chapter in my story. It won't end here. I am coming back with a vengeance and ready to chase new dreams after we tackle this big bump in the road. Though it may not be the adventure we had planned, we are taking it on to be the best adventure yet.

Prayers welcome. Medical updates to come...

Un-school.

It is my second year of un-school. I survived my first summer with a full-time job. Yes, you read that correctly. I have never worked a real full-time job during the summer in my entire life. It is not a solicitation for sympathy, but a statement of fact. So after 17 first days of school as a student and then 14 more as a teacher (yep, that is a total of 31 school year photos), I see all of the "first day of school" photos all over social media and for a split second, my former life comes into focus. And do I miss it? Nope. Not one ounce. Don't get my wrong, I treasure my years as a student and as a teacher, but the freedom in this life is astronomical.

Grandpa.

In the recent passing of my last grandparent (rest in peace, dear Grandpa), thoughts of my upbringing and family come in to conversation, particularly when it coincides with a rather recent dating relationship as you learn about each other in the various lie aspects. The reoccurring theme for me in conversation is realizing that in my nature, I have been quite a people pleaser, which is ironic being that I had/have such a stubborn streak. It all ties back to life as a teacher.

Growing up, I wanted to be a lot of things. I know there was a time, though brief, that I wanted to be an astronaut. I was told that girls can't be astronauts, so there was that (Where was my girl power then?). And then when I wanted to be a doctor, I remember my grandpa asking me if someone came to me with a face gushing blood, could I stitch them up? So ended my medical career before it could even begin. And as I knew that it was in my nature to teach, a job fair at Biola where Whittier Christian was in attendance, I had a conversation with some of the folk and weeks later I was setting up a classroom. I had become everything I swore I never would.

And though I have reflected on life as a teacher in past posts, I am now celebrating one full year in this new life commemorated in my first annual review yesterday with the owners of the company I now work. I know that in the past, I have had a few asses for bosses that destroyed my sense of being and then some that I cherish for the way that they built my spirit. This was evident in my feeling of the review as I walked in feeling no hesitation as to my value. I was not nervous. I was not apprehensive. All to say that I obviously work in an environment that helps me thrive. I am able to feel empowered and encouraged in who I am. There is a dynamic that is a valued nucleus. And more importantly, I am not following the path of familiarity or what is considered safe and stable. I can have my hair purple. Not worry about any visible tattoos. To not feel stifled in creativity. I have spent the last year and some by finally chasing my own dreams.  Not the dreams others have dreamt for me. This chapter has given me strength to not let others dictate my dreams. It may come across in a form of rebelliousness, which is not intended (though we all have a bit of that in our nature, perhaps). Rather, I think this is more about freedom. I am free to embrace the person within and not feel shame. It is awesome and exhausting all at once. It is not something I can shut off.

My second year of un-school photo.
In New York.
For work.
Nope. Can't complain.

There is a positive energy to fill my world and yours. God is still at work. One is never too old to chase dreams. One is never too old for a do-over. Or a second chance. Go get 'em, kids.

So here is to my own second official year of un-school. Cheers.

Theme Park For Sale.

Since my accident a few weeks ago, it feels as though the theme park has been busier than ever. The carousel of chaos continues to spin. The roller coaster dips are getting more intense. And the nausea from it all is in full effect. Thankfully most of the physical wounds have healed from the accident, but there are wounds of the heart that are now surfacing.

After what I consider to be a moment of cheating death yet again after the car accident, I had the come to Jesus moment when I could quickly look at my priorities and figure out what truly mattered. Similar to life after cancer, but this was more of a flash bang. What matters most is people. Loving them. Enjoying them. And treasuring them. Because time on this earth is short and you don't always get to cheat death. Sometimes heaven calls those we love home and it just seems too soon.

We don't always get enough time to love. A former student of mine went to be with Jesus this last week after a motorcycle accident. In his early 20's, he was called home. I remember vividly his mannerisms. He drove me crazy in the classroom. But students like him were my favorite. They made my job as a teacher challenging and entertaining. I used to call his name out constantly in class. And in an instant, he is now gone. His parents made the brave decision to keep him on life support until his organs could be donated. What an incredibly selfless moment that must have been. Heaven got an angel that will surely keep heaven on its toes. What a gift.

Another dear friend was called home in the last few days which has also caused the tears to flow. She was one of the dearest, most loving women that was always caring and smiling, despite the pain she quietly carried. I can't thank her enough for entrusting me with her deepest secrets, but also allowing me to share in mine. To be completely honest, she walked with me in some of my darkest valleys. My calm in the storm. There were nights she would stay on the phone with me until all hours of the morning until my heart was calm enough to sleep. In a moment, she too is gone. I know her sadness all to well as I have been there. The pain she carried was too heavy to bear. I get it. I don't want to believe it, but I sadly understand. She died to what I believe was a broken heart. I wish I had known her pain had grown so incredibly deep. She hid her hurts from others so well with her love and her smile, but I can't help but wonder how I could've talked and listened to her this time until the pain had subsided. Her two boys were her entire life and love. And they are left to pick up the pieces. My prayer is that truth is understood and that those boys know how much she lived and loved for them. I could only hope that someday I could be half the mother she was with such love and devotion.

Heaven now has two incredible angels that were called home too what I think from earthly eyes, was too soon.

It makes me wonder why He took them home, yet I continue to get extra lives. It is becoming more evident that there is a calling on my life that I just don't yet understand and a job to do that perhaps I am not yet aware. But that doesn't mean the earthly pain goes away with losses like these. It is apparent that my life as a teacher is not a finished career as many of the students and families are still very much part of my story. I cry out wondering when the spinning will stop. I often pray to God asking Him when will the good parts will happen. Just when I think I have it all figured out, there is another dip in the ride. The pain gets exhausting. The carousel continues to go around and around.


I do, however, see God answering prayers. In my own situations, God provided a "new" car to me after I was so discouraged thinking I would be hoofing it. And you know, the car He provided is perfect for me. Money was provided in ways I could not have imagined. I had good advice from some dear people that guided me to this decision as I was struggling to figure out what Ellen wanted instead of listening to all of the other voices. And not only does my new ride exceed my checklist with features I didn't think I could afford, it was exactly $1 under the budget I set for myself. Answered prayer.

The relationship roller coaster has been my ride of choice over the last decade. And though the ride has had different names and faces, I somehow find myself in the same peaks and dips that result in pain. Obviously relationships are going to have their highs and lows, but I find myself in a state of nausea and white knuckles all too often. I wonder if I am the common denominator to it, or if this is just part of my story. Perhaps it is a combination of both. And someday I will tell my story and be able to say that it was all worth it.

My heart continues to ache. My eyes are swollen from the tears that have been shed. And it is supposed to be my birthday weekend. It is apparent that my birthday will look much different than I anticipated. I will make the most of it. I will look for reasons to celebrate. I will look to love those around me. At this point, it will be friendships, tattoos and wine as part of the festivities. But most important, I will love. I will seek ways to find joy.

I also know, that beyond my birthday, I have a theme park for sale. As much as I love excitement, thrill, and adventure, I am not sure I can continue to endure the roller coaster rides. I prefer something that looks more like the swings, even if they are the ones that go around in circles as it lifts you higher so you can dangle your feet.

"Be still and know that I am God." --Psalm 46:10

And for those that are on the roller coaster, I want to share a song by a band called Gungor, "Beautiful Things." It plays on repeat for me.

EGBOK.

Crash Landing.

April 4, 2015. I think I may have used yet another life early that morning. In fact, I used it for the scariest moment of life yet. Ironic that it was the early morning after Good Friday? I think not. There were some definite connections made there in the reflections.

I was on my way home. It was a bit later than usual. And I was on a toll road I had not traveled. Unfortunately, as most know, I am geographically challenged. And as I was confused in my sense of direction, glancing at the GPS for a split second to decipher the 241 and the 261, I looked up to swerving which sent my car rolling. I rolled what I think to be 3 times, landing upside down in a ditch. By God's grace, not only was I alive, but my cell phone had landed right in front of me. I immediately dialed 911 after I was able to get my seatbelt loose. I then kicked out the passenger door as the driver's side was jammed shut.

A cop was doing a traffic stop on the overpass above and heard the crash. He was with me within the minute. He found me gathering my belongings from the freeway as things were everywhere.

I can't say that the officer was kind. Or helpful. In fact, I found him to be rude and annoyed. And the highway patrol was no better, which is unfortunate as I am usually a big fan. It wasn't until after I passed the field sobriety tests that they were nicer.

All to say, that after my car was loaded onto the flatbed of the tow truck, the one officer said to me that I was lucky to be alive. He said he has seen many accidents and not only should I be thankful to be alive, but how in the world am I walking away from this?! Grace.

I was able to walk away on my own accord. I had cuts on my hands, feets, and lower back (and later found glass in my head), but other than my cuts, scratches, and bruises, I never once blacked out. I did not break one bone (that I know of). And from the looks of it, my whiplash and pain is minimal too, considering.

There are answers I wish I had about why this happened as I seem to always have a story to tell. It is yet another challenge to overcome. And I liked my little car. It was special to me and had a sweet memory of my dad and I buying it. But in the midst of this crash, what flashed before me was those that I love. Cheesy as it may be, I was reminded again that I am on this earth for a purpose. That I have such an amazing group of people that love me and I love them. That I am not alone, despite the years I felt alone in a crowded room. I am very much surrounded by people that care. People that notice me. People that reach out. Love. Pray. Support. And cherish. I have relationships that matter. People that make me a better person because they are in my life. And hopefully I return the favor.

It was in the moments after the accident, that in my gut reactions of who to call, that I quickly learned my list of priorities. Friends have taken my broken pieces (not the broken car) and hugged me so tight that I am hopeful that there really are good people out there. Especially the good ones that bring out the best. I still struggle to build trust as my track record in dating is still questionable, but this is part of the process. I have to believe that good things might actually happen eventually and that it isn't always going to be a nauseating roller coaster that I am tired of riding. Happiness and joy in life is found in who you build it with. And I get to build with some incredible people.

Having said that, my job on this earth is far from done. I want to be a daughter. A sister. A colleague. A friend. A roommate. A someday wife and mother. I want to keep living life to the fullest. I want those around me to know how much I love them. They are my world. And I will spend my days spent with those I love. Doing what I love.

In the aftermath of the accident, I love that two of my dearest friends teared up when seeing me as they were both just so happy I was in their presence. Those are the people I want to hold dear. I love that Jolie and Michelle came over to inspect me. To hug me. Then to help me clean out my glass filled, beat up car. That Julie had me for dinner just so that I could be at "home." And to have some joy in being with her family and the little ones I love.

I am now faced with the aftermath of the serious accident. My car is totaled. Trust. But I have been given a car to borrow in the meantime. Grace. I am in pain. But someone graciously scheduled and paid for me to have acupuncture. Healing. I am sad. Yet the outpouring of texts, calls, Facebook comments, and messages have given me joy. Love. I am in the market for a new car, which is stressful, but I have a dad, a boyfriend, a friend, and a boss all wanting to go to battle to help me get a good car. Faith.

It goes without saying that on Good Friday, Jesus died. He died for a specific reason. I am the reason. So are you. He died because we are not perfect. We have made and continue to make mistakes. We screw up daily. But, He died for love. And in His death, there is also resurrection. Three days later, He arose. And we can now live in His grace and forgiveness. Because He lives, we can face tomorrow. Even when it is overwhelming, scary, or thrilling.

All to say, I am a cat on borrowed lives as I think I used the 9 surviving a black widow bite and cancer and now this. The night of the crash, I can be thankful that Stella was not with me. I can be thankful nobody else was involved. I can be thankful that I walked away. I can be thankful that I get to see another day. I can be thankful my phone landed right in front of me so that I could call 911. I can be thankful that I do not have lasting physical scars from the accident. No broken bones. I can be thankful for so much in all of this. And again, I know that my job on this earth is not yet done. And for that, I can wake up and give thanks. The theme for 2015 is "Let's Be Rad." Can't say how rad this is, but I have faith that good will come of it.

God is good. Even at 2am on a toll road in Irvine.

Did You Know?

In recent weeks, I have been cleaning out my computer, and came across a document I created in the heart of my cancer journey just nights before my surgery. I had this overwhelming fear that I was not going to wake from the surgery and so, as morbid as it sounds, I had written letters to people.

I am not here to share those letters, but it got me to thinking about who I am. Where I was. Where I am. And who I have become. We spend countless hours creating our online profiles whether it be for social media or online dating and we don't always get a chance to know the heart of the person unless they are a dear friend. And though I straddle the line between sharing vulnerabilities through my blog/journal and keeping other details private, I consider myself to be an open book that grants access to certain chapters. And as I am asked to describe myself often, I have different things that come to mind.

With that being said, here are a few random facts that perhaps you didn't know... 

1. I have an overwhelming fear of needles. This is not a secret to those that have walked my cancer journey or have ever known me to have a doctor visit. My fear is so intense, I can't really even talk about it as it makes my arms hurt to just talk about it. 

2. My dream has been to be a published author and artist. My mind thinks in chapters and illustrations. Bucket list dreams. 

3. I have always wanted to play the tambourine in a band. Perhaps this is due to my lack of musical talent, but I just think it would be rad. Like more cowbell, but with a tambourine. 

4. I sleep with the TV on. It has been about 10 years now. I am working on the reasons as to why I do this, but it happens. Sadly, it has interrupted my dreams.

5. My shoe collection is absurd. And well, so is my closet which is equivalent to a boutique of too much. 

6. My guilty pleasure besides trashy reality TV is getting my nails done. Nail art is my jam.

7. There was a moment when I was a synchronized swimmer. Get me in a pool and I will show you a few signature moves. It is gold.

8. In college, there was this one time, I fell out of my loft bed. And I thought I was dying from a blood clot as I got a nasty goose egg on my shin. Ask my best friend, Jolie. It is how she became my best friend. Little did she know what she signed up for that night.

9. I used to work in Yosemite. And I would give anything to go back to those days. I love sleeping under stars and being on the water. Being outside is where I find peace.

10. I give to a fault. Especially of my time. It is an area in which I need better boundaries as some prey on it while others ignore what I give. Rarely I come across the few that appreciate it for what it is.

11. I am guilty of screenshotting my sister and my nieces in FaceTime conversations. It is my favorite. Unfortunately, the feeling goes both ways. So embrace that double chin and the bad hair days.

12. I don't travel enough. I need to take time to see more things and more places.

13. I used to want to chop my legs off at my knees as I was self-conscious of my height. I have learned to embrace it, but it takes a confident man to embrace it too.

14. Claustrophobia.

15. Vershas. My nieces. Sure, the word versha is made up, but my nieces are quite real and really the loves of my life besides a puppy.

16. Stella may or may not dress up for holidays. I don't know how she does it.

17. I live and function in lists.

18. I work too much, but it is a place I love with people I adore.

19. I have 100 things I want to do in 1,000 days.

There you have it. For now... 

Dating Lessons.

In my recent experiences with dating, there are a few nuggets of advice perhaps worth sharing. 

1. I'm not all that patient. Not in the "Rush down the aisle" way, but in the "Is he gonna text back? It's been a whole 29 seconds."

2. My type is somewhere in between a motorcycle riding, tattooed, bearded guy that hopefully doesn't live with his mom and has a job he loves or at least feels success. Who are we kidding?! Beard optional. Scruff accepted. Tattoos not necessary. But I do like the adrenaline junkie that builds cool stuff. 

3. When in doubt on a date, wine is the answer.

4. I don't see the logic in the theory of going on a date for a "free" dinner. Nothing in life is free and I don't like obligation. 

5. I make more faces on a date than the emoji keyboard. 

6. I am highly attracted to a man with many layers. #onion

7. Honesty is hard to come by. 

8. I'm a "worst case scenario" dater meaning I usually assume I am on a date with Dexter and you can find me in the belly of a shark by the end of the evening.

9. I've met some interesting characters. One claimed to be crazier than Christian Grey (yikes!). Another forgot to disclose he had 4 children. Or how about the one that failed to mention he was married?! 

10. But then there are some genuinely good people. And when you find them, they carry their weight in gold. 

It is just nice to know that there are good humans out there that are honest and kind with a good sense of humor.