My Hallelujah Shoes.

January 28, 2016: Hallelujah shoes.

I do declare that these are my hallelujah shoes. In all that has been happening, I have intentionally been taking shoe photos, whether in the doctor's office, waiting for blood work, walking Stella, or just running an errand. Because no matter what is going on, I am going to find ways to celebrate by documenting the shoes I wear on that particular day or moment. I commemorate with one thing that I can control in all of this...my choice of shoes. I can't control the outcome, but I can control how I react (and of course, what shoes I wear). Bear with the idea that this is my journey. This is my story. And these are my hallelujah shoes.

Yesterday gave plenty of reason for a hallelujah. At the eleventh hour, during my pre-op madness, my pathology report had come in. Coincidence? I think not. And Dr. L asked me to wait so we could discuss. I didn't have the nerve to tell him I was trying to rush out as I didn't really want to hear the news and I was trying to squeeze in my EKG before work. Oy vei.

But I waited. And in he came with a smirk on his face (and what I think was a tear in his eye). He said,  "I don't know what you did, kid, but there is no trace of cancer here." NO. TRACE. OF. CANCER. After 3 different doctors were all preparing and assuming for this to be breast cancer (especially with my health history of already being a Stage III survivor and a likely candidate of carrying the BRCA gene), I was preparing for the best outcomes as it all appeared to be in early stages, but...there is NO. TRACE. OF CANCER. I had an army of people praying over me. This is God's answer. I didn't have to do anything, Dr. L, but trust and hope.

Even Dr. K's office called to tell me "Congratulations" as they had gotten word that my pathology showed no trace of cancer. Lumpectomy = cancelled. So Monday, I will have only one cancer surgery rather than two. Crazy to celebrate such things, but I am thankful that my recovery will be half of what I was expecting. (Plus, I wasn't sure I was mentally ready to have a hat trick on cancer.)

As I have to go under for this surgery, prayer appreciated for a routine procedure and no issues with my heart as that was a concern in my last surgery. I have two weeks to lay low until the wounds are healed up.

There is joy in the journey. In whatever your situation, put on your hallelujah shoes, people.

More Ice Cream.

I am almost positive I heard Dr. K tell me to celebrate with ice cream and a Powerball ticket after my appointment yesterday. Ok, so maybe it was just to buy a lottery ticket as I am due for some good luck, but ice cream was still needed. And I may or may not blame the fact that my sister doesn't have Rite-Aid/Thrifty ice cream in Idaho, she *needed* to have a big fat scoop (or two) of chocolate malted crunch with me. It has been really fun having her in town. Definitely was good for my spirits (but not for my waistline).

I can't lie that today feels like a new day after a good night of rest (finally) and after meeting my new oncologist. Dr. K is gifted in all of the right areas, specializing in breast cancer and melanoma. Can't go wrong that she is also a UCLA grad. (of course, divine intervention) Dr. K has given a very clear action plan, so now it just feels like we need to put it in place. And until that plan takes action, I can sleep that much better knowing we've got this.

Diagnosis is definitely melanoma. And as cancer is cancer, she said we are looking at a curable situation as we are still in early stages (praise be). And based on pathology, we are assuming breast cancer as well, but again, at an early stage that can be cured with a lumpectomy. Thankfully, Dr. K can perform both surgeries so I only have to go under once. (I swear I will eventually conquer my fear of needles.)

Dr. K has already been in conversation with Dr. L to make sure there is a good knowledge of my health history. Their conversation was actually quite tender as Dr. L expressed his concern for wanting to make sure that I am ok and Dr. K telling him she has a genuine heart for me. You really couldn't ask for doctors with any better bedside than these two.

Surgery is set for February 1. I will be out for a few weeks to recover if all goes as planned. As I have a few weeks from surgery, this will give time to get pre-op done as well as finish moving. (yes, I am moving again.) Timing will be good for things on the work front as well as getting Stella adjusted to our new house to avoid a pee monster situation. And as I will be adjusting in the new house, I will have a chance to get settled since I will not be allowed to leave the house much after surgery to avoid potential infections.

There will be a handful of co-pays to handle, but should be manageable and thankfully, I have insurance. I will need help doing life for a bit, but I have good people and family around me that will make this so easy. And it is a good excuse to hang out with folks as life often gets in the way. Plus, I have Jack. And he comes with one heck of an army ready to help.

All to say, I feel very fortunate to have such an amazing doctor, but also to feel such love and support from everyone. It is another one of those chapters that reminds me of God's faithfulness. I am feeling such peace in what should once again be a time of incredible fear.

Cancer, thank you. We are going to kick you this round too.

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.

Joy.

Call it an epiphany. A revelation. An awakening. A moment. It was probably just intended to be a compliment, but regardless, it was a moment I won't soon forget.

I frequent our company bank almost daily. Truthfully, I take joy in the bank visits, but that is a story for another day. 

All to say, after 6 months of visiting the bank and getting to know the group of Suits, yesterday, the Boss Man Banker asked me to step into his office after I had finished my transactions. Stepping into his office felt like I was being summoned to the office of the principal and we know I'm not a fan of most of those guys, so this was unusual.

As I sat in the chair across from his desk, we exchanged our pleasantries in his glass box of an office. And it was then he said that he needed to tell me something. Oh boy... 

But there was a method to his madness when he said that there is a stereotype to people of the O.C. and that I'm the antithesis. He alluded to the snob culture commonly associated with our neighborhood. Boss Man said I come in to the bank daily bringing JOY. He said that he (as well as the others working at the bank) look forward to my visit as I have energy and reflect positivity. Ironic that I've battled such depression and now this is my victory. The smile in my eyes makes him and others want to know me, so he claimed. And that he sees I have such a story to tell. My laughter and energy is contagious, making me a person that is attractive to others. Wow. I'll take the compliment. 

I am thankful for this particular conversation. But more importantly, I'm beyond grateful that Boss Man Banker took the time to say this. I don't thrive off of the opinions of others, but when life feels amazing and it is noticed, you can't help but feel joy. I am thankful that I can wear my years of sadness and stink face as a badge of honor that I've been able to retire. 

Boss Man Banker, thanks for the compliment. Hopefully it wasn't just fluff to gain business as I'm not interested. And you really aren't my type.

Black.

The dreaded commercialism filled holiday has come and gone yet again. I absolutely hate the day. In fact, I wear black each year as a tribute to our dear friend, Julie Irene Nichol (a.k.a. Penny). Rest in peace, friend. She hated the holiday and boycotted it each year, so it was only fitting to wear black once again in her memory. But also this year, being single for the first time in years, it was all the more reason. Not as a scorned woman, but as a woman empowered. Screw you, capitalist holiday that creates crowded restaurants, overpriced goods, and pressure to need someone. Nope. Not having it. Instead, I spent the day doing things for myself. I went shopping. Ate a delicious meal. Got a pedicure. Met up with a friend. Had a few glasses of wine. And stayed up way too late texting Good Suit. It was exactly the way I wanted to spend the day.

In fact, days like that seem few and far between right now. I have been running on empty with all that my schedule has been packed with these days. I had Jane for 10 days. I have been working weekends doing merchandising and other projects. I moved finally. Again. (And HALLELUJAH!). And I have been trying to catch up with friends and maintain some semblance of a social life. I love the busy-ness of it all, but it is not so good for the time I need to myself. To think. Draw. Paint. Read. Sleep. Reflect. Pray. So as we have entered the season of Lent, I have decided that rather than give up my indulgences or vices like wine, shopping, eating out, sweets, coffee, etc., I am taking back. I am going to start saying no. It is unfortunate, but I have taken a few valuable pages from the book of the boss man. He has empowered me and reminded me to do so. In fact, in recent conversations, he has also shed light on other aspects of my life. Amazing how he is not only an amazing creature as a boss, but speaks such wisdom and demonstrates such care for me as a human. He is one of my Top 10 favorite men I will know in this life.

Recent conversation with boss man led me to finally surrender my "key." Months ago, I took a key during a series at church about the "Key to..." I had been holding on to the key until I could forgive. Trust me, I was white knuckle fisted around this situation of hurt. I had been struggling to forgive someone for years and that also ultimately led to a struggle to forgive myself. And after talking with boss man, he said that the last 12 years of my life, pain and all, have led me to this place where the pieces have all fit. He said that all he sees in me is joy. And rather than hold on to the hurt, I should be thanking that person for freeing me to be where I am now. Ding. Ding. Ding. I have let it go (Go ahead, sing the Frozen version). But truly, I have been able to let the walls down and realize that it is all part of the journey. I am done hurting. I am done harboring. I genuinely miss you. Wish the best for you. And hope our paths cross from time to time. But I am riding the Tsunami of Awesome instead. So thank you. And, for what it is worth, I forgive you. But more importantly, I forgive me.

I am enjoying this new chapter with the Daughter Girl. Suit. Jitana. Deeder. Lita Pita. Inked Writer. Hot Nutz. Gusband Bestest. Spirit Animal. Listen Linda. The Mister. Ronny Tornado. And all of the other people that make my life so colorful.

So, Valentine's Day, you are dumb. You will always be a holiday to wear black. Again, Let's Be Rad. 2015.

Christmas Letter. 2014.

Dear Friends...

Of course, I'd like to send out Christmas cards, but life is chaotic once again in preparations for my move (yes, I know...again) to a place I hope to call home for more than a minute. 

As I sit down to write this letter, I'm typing it from my phone as I wait to for Jane to finish dance class. (I'll explain later) Life is moving at a completely different pace than it was 12 months ago. But to be truthful, this is peace in chaos, which is unexpected. And I'm more than enjoying this chapter and all it is bringing. Reflecting on this year, it's been a lifetime of events in a mere 350 some odd days. 

I started the year in a relationship and with what I thought was a steady career.  Soon into the year, I was laid off from teaching, so plans to make the relationship more permanent seemed like an attainable reality. The decision to move to him seemed to make sense. I sold half of my furniture, clothes, and much of my other worldly possessions and moved once summer hit. I moved south with great dreams. And I also moved with a plan. Jory (my Bestest) became my business partner and Studio Black Sheep was born. I must say with truth that Jory has been a highlight of my year. The memories we've made in this adventure have been engrained in my brain for a lifetime and the proof lives on in Instagram and on Facebook. I mean, how can we forget that one time in Gustine?! 

And though the move to San Diego was sadly short lived as I love it there, it was a major springboard for change. With the sudden and quite unexpected move back to the LA area, I nannied (for like, a minute) for a few families before landing an amazing job at The LAB. The position, though hard to define, is incredible and tailor made for my personality, but more importantly, the people I've met have made the biggest impact in my life in such a short period of time. My boss and his wife feel like we've known each other for years. He continues to validate me as a person which NEVER happened with my previous working situation. The humor in our office is nothing short of a reality show in the making. And through this working at the office, I've also met the dad of one incredible girl. 

Jane. As I seem to have J's in spades, she's of course, the youngest in my collection, but nonetheless seems to make up for it with her larger than life personality. You know, it's interesting how our lives cross paths with people that are kindred spirits. The kind of people you meet and know you'll be connected for life. And as I have days I miss parts of my life with middle schoolers, I have her to tutor and mentor. She's my people. We understand each other. I get to spend these chunks of time with her. As we work on homework in between her dance classes, we are getting to spend time hanging out too. I see her learn, grow, be silly or serious and to be in conversation. I also get entertained as she is, after all, a thirteen year old. She fills my heart. It isn't something I can label, or even explain in a phrase or even a sentence, but I am thankful for what this is.  

This year has included the births of friendships. The deaths of relationships. A whole heck of a lot of time in a baseball stadium. Countless road trips. Living with gracious people in between chaotic life stages. Lots of #YAAAAASSSSS. Too many cardboard boxes. Idaho. Learning to conquer my anxiety and depression demons. Coffee in excess. A life changing Step Study. My collection of J's. A new car (with the gracious help of my dad and Katty Kat...ahh, Gustine). Making San Fran/Sac town my home away from home. Navigating my way back into church. And of course, Stella (Truly my only constant in this year other than the theme of change. Hard to believe she turned 9 this year!). 

Welcome to Tustin.

And so, as I get ready to embark on this next address move, I'm looking forward to the change. To have a roommate again (Boy, that is an ironic journey of worlds colliding). And to start the year in a better place, literally and figuratively. And to remember, it's not about my identity in others. It's about the identity of me. 

My friends, I pray that as we can get caught up in the holiday craziness, we don't lose sight of the blessings and faithfulness. I count my blessings a little more carefully as it was a frightful adventure of a year. My motto this year was to THRIVE. I finally know a heck of a lot more of what that looks like, which brings such a deep rooted freedom. Next year's motto is just starting to unfold itself. At this point, for 2015, I want to love. To shine. To hope. And to be free in me. 

With love,

.ellen&stella.

What's My Address Again?

The new place is still under construction.

So as I know things have changed so fast for me this year that before I finish typing this sentence I will probably have another new address. Oh wait...that's right...I am moving. Yet again. In 6 weeks. It'll be Move Number 7 or 8 in the last 12 months. Oy vei. This move I will actually order address labels for and make sure my driver's license matches only so that it seems like I am settled this time for more than a minute. On that note, I have also decided to go back to the roommate life as I was given an offer too good to refuse. I think that it will be a healthy situation and perhaps will provide an for an interesting story someday. It will be nice to have someone there too. I am (we are) upgrading to a very nice new top-floor apartment in a beautiful area that will allow me to spend a lot of time outdoors in Peter's Canyon (as well as other local parks and beaches) so I can run again in good areas and my homegirl, Stella, will get to enjoy life in the dog park at our home. I am looking forward to the change (and to finally unpack--though cardboard brown is so the new black).

Trailer chic.

And though I have moved from La Habra to Cerritos to San Diego to Whittier to La Habra to stints in San Francisco to a vacation in Idaho to Santa Ana to Tustin, I have at least settled in to THE most amazing job. I hate to even call it a job as I don't feel like it is even work. I literally get to be in an environment surrounded by all things Ellen. Creative. Retail. Design. Food. Drink. People. And lots of movement and action. It is really everything in my wheel house. I had no idea such a thing existed. And though I miss the coaching and kids (and some people) of my past life, I could not love this job any more than I do. I work for a creative duo that are at the top of the game. And best part, I have a boss that is a creative genius, respectful, thoughtful, and funny. I had no idea how much my soul and spirit had been damaged in recent years by some in authority of my past professional career. But that has all seemed like ancient history as I work for people that encourage and build. Not a day goes by that I am not laughing and leaving the day feeling valued. It is a dream. Because in turn, I work that much harder and get to thrive in this place. What a novel concept.

People are asking me all the time what it is that I do. And to be honest, I am not sure how to put it in words. I manage an office of creatives. I facilitate the personal and professional schedules of my boss. I buy for the retail spaces. I get to shop and source furniture and accessories for our new ventures. I plan fun events. I get to be creative. I am part of many projects. I work with all kinds of people from city officials, to creatives, to restauranteurs and some major players in the development world. It is kind of crazy. Even more awesome is that I get to have a pulse on trends and pushing the design envelope as I learn from those I work with each day. I get to try all kinds of food and drink from the restaurants. I have met great people that are quickly becoming great friends. I wear whatever I want to work. My hair can be whatever color. And I get to be me. No judging. It is freeing. The bonus (besides these amazing people): we have a trailer and a shipping container in our office. Bet you can't say that about your work space!

Bunny.

Beyond life at The LAB, I have spent a good deal of time making these fly-by-night trips to San Fran. Thankfully my Pops and Katty Kat are there, but I also get to see my "Bestest." (That means he is better than a bestie.) We have been spending these moments together that feel like a blip on the radar, but honestly, we pack every minute. We are still this powerhouse known as Studio Black Sheep making events happen and gettin' it done.  It is amazing how someone can fill your life with so much love and laughter and joy and confidence all at once. And you can spend countless minutes together singing Katy Perry at the of your lungs and purring at each other without being annoyed. It is the best. And to be truthful, it is Jory that I can almost singlehandedly say has been a force in getting me back on my game. He is an amazing human. The kind that plants the deepest and most honest friendship one can ever ask for.

There is a handful of folk that I can say that about these days. They are the ones that know me best and have never left my side. I get to spend holidays with those families. Celebrate birthdays. Go shopping for creatures needed for a 5 year old birthday party or to even just clean out the garage (for days in a row). Or just show up at their house for Sundays together to do whatever the day may call for. It is the kind of stuff that takes my breath away when I feel the sadness for the yesteryears. I have these people that fill the empty spaces. They are more than friends. The "friend" word doesn't do justice. They've become family. And though they definitely don't replace the significant people of the past, they help to bring in new memories and help me to build again. Just this time as a better version of myself.

In a nutshell, I am back. I am alive. I am me again. It has been a decade or so, but watch out. The sleeping lions are wide awake. It was my 2014 resolution to THRIVE. And though this has taken on a completely different look than what I had imagined back on January 1, this is shaping up to be a chapter I couldn't have written better myself. And that, my friends, is how we know that we are NOT the authors of our own story. We simply play a role in a grander picture. Thank God for that.

And so, the ampersand chapter continues...&

Potato Land.

After spending the last week in the land of potatoes, it is a wonder that I did not send for my things and have Dave and Sarah pack Stella into a cardboard box and FedEx her. (Sidenote: Stella was an escape artist in my absence. Twice. Practically gave me a heart attack and caused an assembly of a giant search party. Thankfully, she didn't wander too far.) Had it not been for a wedding in CA, I may have had my mail forwarded to a Potato Land address.

Idaho, though I have now visited a handful of times, somehow quieted my soul this trip. I am sure breaking my Whole30 diet for a minute to have Zips helped a tad, but I think it had more to do with the company I kept. Being with the scrummies was priceless, and of course, seeing my sister and brother-in-law was an added bonus. My dad happened to coordinate his trip, so it was lots of family bonding time, but all in all, I savored the moments in Legos, baking cupcakes, hair braiding, walking hand in hand with RaeRae, jumping on the trampoline (thank God I didn't pee myself), and other such exciting adventures that come from spending time with girls that are 9 and 11. The Harry Potter marathon was fun. The summer storms were nerve rattling. The wake boarding was eventful (and full of colorful words). Paddle boarding was amazing (as was each day on the lake). The people continued to be so kind in the northwest. But ultimately, my trip came down to prized moments. One such moment in which I spent in church. It will be a moment I treasure for eternity.

The moment came on the heels of talking to Louski about life, friendships, and who God has made her to be. This girl is quite serious about her cupcakes and wanting to be a business owner someday. Her brain is always working. And she is now at an age where she is wanting to figure out what she is good at, while also wanting to be accepted by her friend groups. It just so happens to be an age that I cherish. She is the age of my people. Anyhow, we sat next to each other in church this last Sunday where she is now old enough to attend "big church." And at church, it was communion Sunday. As the bread and wine came down our aisle, we took our portions and quietly sang and prayed. And as I watched Caelan praying with all of her might, she spilled a bit of her grape juice. (Not surprising, as my sister did forewarn me that it is a regular occurrence.) But what I loved was that she was so focused on her prayers that she was not at all concerned with the purple drops on her jeans. Her child like faith has been a vision in my head ever since as I am in this place where my own faith continues to grow and be challenged. I am so incredibly thankful that my sister and Eric are raising their girls to be such amazing creatures. Honest. Loving. Creative. Respectful. And God loving. You can learn a lot from spending time with a 9 and an 11 year old.

Spending time in Idaho allowed my spirit to settle and to truly reflect on all that has happened in the last year or so. Even for a moment. Some of it has challenged me beyond belief. Much has surprised me. And some things, I am still sorting. And I am exhausted. But it also showed me that I am in this new chapter of life when I can do and be whatever I want. That I can go where the wind takes me. Or better yet, where God calls.

After a conversation with a friend in Idaho that I know from my way back life, he challenged me to really prayerfully consider this next chapter. And that perhaps, just maybe, I might be packing my stuff to move somewhere unexpected. As I am learning that God has a sense of humor, I am thinking that maybe there is some truth to the words of my friend in this adventure. And maybe one day, Potato Land might just be home. I could stand to snuggle on the couch with my nieces on a weekly basis or spend time paddle boarding with them on the lake. I don't want to miss out. And the great memories I made with Meg and Eric was refreshing. Or perhaps my next address will be in another time zone.

I am still facing a handful of unknowns, but this might all be because the adventure is just about to start. Doors continue to close and friendships continue to evolve in unexpected ways. My faith is continuing to be challenged and perhaps this faith of mine should look more like an 11 year old girl with purple spotted jeans.


P.S. Whole30, you are not fun on vacation. Day 22 is in the books and I still want beer and chocolate, with a side of cheese and frozen yogurt.

Whole30. Day 1.

This is the start of all things madness. I am talking real madness (like REEEAAAL). My friend Sarah and I are embarking in the craziness called Whole30. And today martked Day 1.

What is Whole30, you may ask? It is eating real food for 30 days. No sugar. No carbs. No fun. Just kidding. It is fun. So far. But I have been advised that by Day 4 or 5, I will want to kill all things. That'll be fun.

Whole30 is a reset to the metabolism. It is definitely a diet of discipline. It is eating in the manner that God created. For us to treat our bodies like the temples they are, but also to ditch the nonsense preservatives and fillers that destroy our body. As a cancer survivor, it is all the more reason to consider every bit of food I eat so that my body is operating at its best. In the next 30 days, I will eat plenty of eggs, lots of protein, and the fridge is filled with color. I love it.

I am encouraged by the way Whole30 friends are feeling (and looking). So, as life is about developing better patterns and habits, here starts one of healthy eating. Real food. Real life. Real.

I am the Moon.

Dear Friends,

After some recent thought and conversation with someone I shared much of my life, I have been wrestling over the privacy/publicity of my blog. With that being said, I would like to get a few things on the record. This is not a huge forum in which I choose to share. I made that clear from the first post.

They see me rollin'.

First, I am not a victim. In fact, as I read my blog, I can see that I am stronger than I have been in years. Broken, but strong. And the things that have been taking place in my own life are not perpetuating any sort of victim-hood identity. Quite the contrary. Rather, I want the message that comes across is one of strength, bravery, difficulty, and truth. I am totally blessed. BUT I AM STILL FLAWED. Imperfect. Broken. A beautiful disaster, if you will. Faithfulness is evident in every aspect of this life. Even in the difficult parts. And in recent moves and changes, it is not intended as a cry for help or sympathy. I strive instead to set that record straight here and now. To show others with my actions, not my words, that I do not need to encourage drama or to create tension. I have painted some situations in the past to play up my past role as a victim. It caused pain to people. I pay the price for that, as do they. I made mistakes. Big ones that caused some of the most important people in my life to suffer. That is my burden to bear. Sadly, that pain still resides in some situations that I wish I could erase. I can't change it, but I can work to build for the future. We are all responsible for our own actions and choices. Now, I am learning to live in love, acceptance, forgiveness, and kindness. What a novel concept. I apologize if anything indicates I need the whole "woe is me" act. I don't. And I am truly sorry to those I have hurt. Truly.

Second, I will not share EVERY detail of my personal life on my blog. Some details are meant to be private. I was pretty up front from the beginning that this blog was intended to serve as a journal of MY journey.  Some details may seem vague, but it is not for others to see it as my lure to hook you in. (I hate that kind of fishing.) Please respect the fact that I am sharing my vulnerabilities. It is not for you to prey upon them. If anyone is reached along the way, then praise. It is not about me, but rather about the grace in my story that may in fact reach another. When navigating through mud, it can be quite comforting to know you are not alone, even when you deliberately choose to sit with the pigs (as I have often done). That the mud will eventually be wiped away. There is no shame in being refined. This is a delicate balance of utilizing any sort of social media. I walk a fine line of being careful not to dance in the land of over-sharing. Things are easily misconstrued or assumed. And we all know what happens when you ASSume...

Third, it is not easy to get help, seek counseling, or reach out. In my recovery, it was only when I hit rock rock bottom (imagine rock bottom, then add another 10 layers and 10 years--that is rock rock bottom), that I actually realized I didn't have to live at the bottom any longer. Getting help was one of the bravest (and most difficult) things I have ever done. And truly, I struggle through those brave moments. Even a year into it. I often lean heavily on an amazing support group. I would start the last decade over again in a heartbeat and apply all of the things I have learned today. Gladly, I would make healthier decisions and engage in all things positive. The patterns of my past were clearly NOT working so I am choosing to embark on this adventure of learning to live in light. To get out of the darkness and to heal the wounds. The process hurts. And sharing parts of this are painful, yet therapeutic. If you are feeling that getting counseling or going to therapy is weak, let me tell you friend, this process is not for the faint of heart. You are brave. Be brave because you are HIS.

This last week, there were words spoken by a wise gentleman at CR that completely defined my own state of mind from the years past providing quite the revelation for me... I stuff my feelings. After stuffing those feelings, I carry them. And as the bag of feelings gets full, I carry more and then stuff some more. Eventually, the bag overflows and I reach the point of breaking. Not usually a moment of rage, but more of a breaking point. And then I feel guilty for having those feelings. So after unloading in a meltdown, I gather up the broken pieces and put them back in the bag. I am now learning to work THROUGH the feelings and to communicate before it gets to this point. To unpack the bag and leave it at the cross. I am working through the mistakes and the hardships, especially the negative patterns of the past. I pray through them. I know that it is NEVER too late to change. And that it is ok to have hope that the journey will lead to transforming thoughts and choices. HOLD ON TO THAT HOPE.

I am currently working through making amends. Sadly, I am not sure that every situation will lead to peace (or bubblegum and soda pop), but at least I can take ownership for the hurt or pain I have caused. I pray that forgiveness takes place and that there is a hope for the future. I am not perfect. I have caused great hurt. What's worse is that I have hurt those I love most. I have not always been fair. I have a stubborn streak that is being tamed. I did not and do not always communicate well, but I sure as heck am trying. I have made mistakes and choices that greatly impacted my future and the future of others. That is where I am learning to forgive myself and to understand the work in it because the guilt and regrets of that are incredibly heavy. And last time I checked, the "rewind time machine" I so wanted from that episode of the Jetson's has still not been invented. Because trust me, I would cherish the moments I had. I would treasure the memories and moments with those that are no longer with me. I would do things differently. I would laugh more. I would be proud. I would encourage and not enable. And I would not have lost my voice to the point where I am now-- looking to find it again.

I have decided to keep the blog public. But please understand that this is MY journey. My story. Feel free to continue reading. And if you don't like it, stop reading. I am not here to force feed you.

I am a work in progress. This is a messy process. This journey is genuine. I am not molding for others. The mask is off. I am working to better myself and to build (and hopefully, rebuild) healthy relationships. I will not give up on those I love. I am not a quitter. And I didn't come this far to walk away.

Grace, peace, and love.
.ellen.

"Are you the sun? The center of the universe? Because you act like the sun. And you think that I am just a hunk of rock. The moon. Well, at least people can walk on the moon."

Cheeseburgers and Goldfish.

Gone are the days of the .39 cent cheeseburgers. (Thanks for that reminder, Leslie.) Gone is the day of the dorm-approved goldfish pet that somehow birthed at least a dozen little swimmers (get your minds out of the gutter) that we housed in a bucket. And let's not forget the death of our beloved Mrs. C. from Y & R. Those were the days. The good 'ol days. These current days look a lot different. The goldfish is long gone. RIP Nameless Goldfish (The name escapes me. I am sure it had something to do with Jackopierce or some random Smokejumper). And the cheeseburgers, oh the cheeseburgers. Curse you McDonald's. Curse you for jacking up your prices. And curse you for your processed food. And curse you body for not being able to eat 4 of those preservative filled patties without adding extra pounds just looking at you. I add 6 inches to my backside just pulling through that blasted drive-thru. Thankfully, the only thing about that economy cabin fast food joint I guilt on now is their iced coffee.

Anyhow, I am continuing in this process of navigating...I read through my blog posts and this blog seems more like an aimless wandering through unwritten chapters. I have not had afforded you all the grace of my indecent humor or my dry smirks. I have been dying to share with you my obsession with Quinoa (the girl, not the grain). Nor have I truly been able to share with you the life of Juanito, my long lost who-knows-what out in Gustine. Or that Byron Scott is seriously the new head coach for my beloved Lakers. (I bleed the purple and gold--even through the rare, but atrocious seasons.) And my days of sharing about my reality trash TV obsession are non-existent. Bummer for you. Or should I say, bummer for me because my TV is somewhere in storage.

I hear you, Stella. This is exhausting.

Instead, I do all sorts of introspective reflection. Ugh. Gross. And I am in the midst of having (or getting) to share those skeletons with my sponsor to clean out the cobwebs. Cuss. Trust me, I have a hilarious side. I often tell people I am the funniest person I know. Rather these days, I question who I truly trust. The funny is on reserve. There are few I let in the sacred rooms of my heart. And there are those I want to let in, but they have declined the invite. Or maybe it is just that they get lost trying to find their way (again or at all). And then comes a bucket of other wonderings...Who am I now? What the heck am I doing? Who do I want to allow in my inner circle? This crap is exhausting. I long for the days when the biggest question was "What am I going to wear tomorrow?" Or "What day of the week is it so we can get those .39 cent cardboard delights?" First world problems.

There are so many other "crazy" things to share. Like random (or more like divinely orchestrated) encounters with people that say they were supposed to meet me at this time or that, as they have something to share with me. I still marvel at the friendships that have rallied and taken root in the land of foreverness. (That is better than BFFs.) The void of one is filled with many. I am fulfilled. I am happy (working on the joy part). And I am thriving (on most days). All of it seems to be part of a bigger puzzle assembling behind the scenes. And I am in this holding pattern wondering what it all means and how this all will play out.

#partyanimals

So as this journey continues, I hope to share the brighter sides of life (or at least my brilliant humor). The good mixed with the bad. The days when you can eat whatever and not care. (Curse you, Whole 30!) Or spend excessive amounts of time watching goldfish. Because that is real important. Reals important. For now, I share today's highlight (other than two a-mazing client meetings and talking with a few different friends at random) was watching Duke continue his pursuit of fly-chasing as well as an impromptu photo op for a dear friend's birthday. With that, let me present to you, Duke and Stella.

Paralyzing Drama.

It is hard to put into words what has transpired in the last 4 weeks, let alone the last 4 days or even 4 hours. My San Fran man "Bestest" says I have enough change to paralyze a small child. He's right. But somehow, I am making it work. There are those moments when you see it all at work, but I am now watching the pieces move so fast and there isn't even time for a pause button. As fast as I moved to San Diego, it looks as though I am moving back to the LA area. Opportunities are surfacing there that are potentially too good to pass up. Nothing is going according to plan, but in some ways, I think that this plan is better. Detours are being encountered, but it is nothing we can't overcome or celebrate.

There are many changes yet to endure. People are coming out of the woodworks to help me put together this second life. I am being offered places to live and job opportunities that are beyond expectations. I am learning so much about myself in this process. I don't regret one step of this journey thus far. Someone quite familiar with my path said to me that she understands the nights when you want the floor to swallow you whole, but that on the other side of this, I will see that life is far richer and that the experience has strengthened me more than I will ever know.

The cool part: The world is my oyster. (insert cheesy groans and a few yadah yadah yadah's) But I am getting to be creative. I feel the most alive I have ever felt. Maybe it is because I am clawing my way out of struggles, pains, and hardships to get to a place where people are real and genuine. Where I don't dread every minute of the clock. For now, am I scared? Heck yeah. Nervous? Beyond belief. But thankful still. I am getting to meet people that are way out of my comfort circle. I am spending time in the homes of so many wonderful people. I get to see their real life. To be part of their families for a bit. So many people are reaching out to be kind. To help. To love. To offer different things.

The hard part: Not knowing what is next. I suppose you could say that this is part of the ride, but it is also scary as I am not sure what tomorrow brings. This is humbling as I have never worked so hard, but I am learning what that work truly means. I will (hopefully soon) celebrate when the fruits of labor are fully manifesting, but I will celebrate with a great team of people that are supporting this process. It is shaping up to be one heck of a party (and we all know I love to plan a good party!)

So with vague-ness aside, let me be specific about what I am currently doing...I am working to build an event planning business called Studio Black Sheep. It is in the infant stages. After doing just about 200 of my own events, I have partnered with a party soulmate that matches, if not supersedes, my energy level. We have launched our website: www.thestudioblacksheep.com. If you have a birthday celebration, engagement, Christmas party, wedding, non-profit gala, whatever, we are in the business to make your life easier by being your own personal planners. We offer a range of services, so hit us up!

With Studio Black Sheep, one of our concierge services is in partnership with my former website: www.stellabluedress.com. We offer personal shopping for home and fashion as well as home organization. (Who doesn't need a good closet re-organize/purge?!) Let me shop with you and for you. One of my specialties is stretching a buck so don't be afraid that your credit cards will get maxed. You often can do some of the best shopping in your own closet!

So, as I am accustomed to saying...let the adventure continue.

Goodbyes.

I am not good at goodbyes. And after an email from a friend, some of this is getting a little difficult to digest, like the beginning of goodbyes. I am starting to say them. It isn't like I'll never return to L.A. or that this is goodbye forever. Just the "goodbye for now" is harder to say.

After this weekend, it got real. Clearly, I need to sip on the juice of joy, but that it is not always easy. I was at Opening Day for the Dodgers vs. Padres. I was torn as to which team to root for (though I am always Dodger blue at heart). Walking in to Petco Park for the first time was an adrenaline rush for a thousand reasons. This. Is. Real.

The other side of reality is hitting me. I will not be returning to the cozy classroom I have called my home for the last 9 years (or better yet, teaching for 14). There is a bitter taste still sitting in my gut over that. I am leaving my home in which I have lived all of 8 or 9 months, (which was, looking back), a big kickstart to this process of change. But what I leave is bigger than all of that. I am leaving a comfort zone. For the last (almost) 36 years, I have been in a 15 mile radius of a safe, familiar nest. And now I am moving 100 some miles away. Am I excited? Of course. Anxious? A little. Sad? Definitely. Ready? Yes.

But there is so much I am going to miss...

-The familiar smell of the grass on the fields I line each week.
-My own space. 
-The daily hilarity of my students (on that, I could write my own book).
-The laughter and daily joys of my colleagues.
-Starbucks Thursdays with Kim.
-Knowing how to get places (though I still get lost in my own neighborhood).
-Coaching.
-The Dodgers. 
-Being able to meet up with friends at the drop of the hat.
-Having dinner with my mom any day of the week.
-The Warehouse family.
-Grill 'Em All.
-Stella's babysitters. 
-Crying in church next to Robin and PK (almost a weekly occurrence for me still).
-The suburbs (though the city life excites me).
-Clifton's.
-The relationships with other schools and ADs.
-CR on Wednesday nights.
-Coincidental run-ins.
-Going to Julie's for dinner to party plan with her and Jessica (but this WILL still happen).
-My shops I love to frequent.
-Doing laundry at Jav and Stephanie's (though I think this will still happen from time to time).
-Plenty of parking.
-L.A. life.
-Jolie and dates with her cuties (I love being their Tia--and still will be).
-The Lakers (though this has been an embarrassing season).
-My closet.

The list will go on. I am sure I will add to it. So don't be insulted if you aren't on the list. It is just hard to say goodbye and some things I am just not ready to accept.

This is my life.

 My dear friend Julie said I would get to a place in this new life of mine and I would have this moment, when the realization would set in and I would confidently and thankfully say, this is my life. Smirk smirk. Yeah right, I would get that glorious moment. But February happened. The highest highs and the lowest lows. (Once again, cue the singing angels and their harps--for the good parts, of course).

Nothing special ushered in the moment. But it happened. It hit me gently like a ton of fluffy bunnies. Like soda pop and bubble gum. This is my life. For a split second, I teared up and let all other thoughts escape. This. Is. My. Life. And though I immediately wanted to text my friend Julie to sing from rooftops about the moment that had just occurred, I let it all sink in with, what I am sure, was a silly smile of pure contentment on my face.

The Pee Monster.

As that moment (as well as that weekend) has been engraved in my memory as a treasure, I would say that our lives are far from perfect. We have our flaws and imperfections. And reality makes itself known often and loudly like bullhorns and dragsters. Reality hits in moments like when I dropped the cup of red salsa on the carpet at lunch. Brought partially raw brownies to treat for my colleagues. Having tons of unanswered questions about what is to come. Or after talking smack about another's mishaps, my phone charger starts its own sparking party, burning the charger and the outlet as I drive down the road. Or like when I wake up at 4 in the morning today, in a puddle of Grandma Stella's leaking bladder (for the 10th time). This is my life.

My parade has been peed on many times in the recent weeks. Life is messy. Literally and figuratively. It is a bit chaotic at times. It is unexpected. It is walking at times in blind faith. But somehow, I am always able to get back to the moment of...This is my life. The difference now in contrast from 6 months ago in is how I brace for the storms. And when they hit (as they are inevitable), thank God I have an umbrella and carpet cleaner because you just don't know if it will be a hurricane or a yellow puddle.